


Work In Progress.

by rubyrosettared



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author! Bucky, Completely AU, F/M, Friends to Lovers trope, Gen, Godfather Bucky, Slow Burn, and emotional pain, but in different roles, ptsd bucky, recovering bucky, smut in later chapters, so buckle up baby, there will be angst, you'll recognise the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 78,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyrosettared/pseuds/rubyrosettared
Summary: Best friends. James Buchanan Barnes and Jess Stark.Ex soldier and now reclusive best selling author. After a traumatic event in his past, Bucky holds onto his secrets even though they're close to destroying his peace of mind. Three people keep him on the level; Jess Stark, her daughter Olivia and Steve Rogers.This is entirely AU. You'll recognise the names but the settings are all completely different. Set over the course of a few weeks. All errors are unintentional. The characters familiar to the MCU belong to the relevant people. The OC's are mine. Slow, slow burn.





	1. Chapter 1

**One.**

“He’s not answering his phone, again.”

Jess tucks her phone between her shoulder and her ear and continues with her task at hand, namely preparing dinner for herself and Olivia and she quietly sighs.

“He’ll be writing. You know he tends not to answer his phone if he’s in the zone and on a deadline and he’s on one of those right now.” Behind her the timer for her oven buzzes and she turns, heading to it, phone still firmly sandwiched in place. Olivia swears it’s a super power that she possesses in how she hasn’t dropped the phone yet. She looks through the partially glazed door before she switches it off. She reaches for a pair of oven gloves and opens the door.

“Or he could’ve gone down to his beach house for a couple of days.”

“And in that case he’d call me and let me know he’s doing that, or he’d let you know. If he’s busy then he switches on his voice mail or his answering machine. I haven’t heard from him, I’ve rang both his cell phone and his home number several times and they’re just ringing out. No messages. Nada.”

“Steve….”

“Please could you check on him? You have a key and he won’t throw anything at you.”

Jess rolls her eyes at Steve’s persuasive tone.

“That was just the one time and you _did_ interrupt him while he was writing and he really doesn’t like to be interrupted,” she reminds him and hears him sigh in response.

“At least he likes you.”

“For God’s sake Steve, he likes you too. You’re best friends, you went to college together. He _knows_ me and I know him. He will be busy and he’ll yell at _me_ because I’ve interrupted his flow.”

“He won’t yell at you, he never yells at you, you’re just about the only person he _doesn’t_ yell at.”

That part is true. He doesn’t yell at her. Gets cranky for sure but yell? No he doesn’t.

“Please Jess. I’ve just gotta feeling, that’s all.”

She gives a loud, long suffering sigh. _Steve and his feelings._

She lifts the casserole dish out of the oven and places it on the counter along with the oven gloves and she grabs onto her phone.

“Okay. Fine, I’ll check in on him but if he yells then it’s your fault and for the record, you’re a damned coward, do you know that?”

“Oh I absolutely do. Thanks sweetheart. Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks, the relief evident in his voice. She rolls her eyes again.

“Sure.”  She disconnects and puts her cell phone on the bench. She stares at it and then picks it up and hits the speed dial, holding it up to her ear and she listens as it connects and then begins to ring. She braces herself for a cranky retort.

Steve can be such a worrywart sometimes, she decides.  Chances are if he’s not writing then he’ll be in the shower, out somewhere noisy with Tim and some of his old army buddies that he’s still in touch with and hasn’t heard it ring or maybe he’s even sleeping and turned the ringer off.  He _has_ been known to just sleep and not be passed out in a drunken stupor.

But it’s not like him to not leave his voicemail on and despite her reassurances to Steve, that part worries her.

And if he _was_ planning to head away to his beach house for a couple of days, he would call either her or Steve first without fail and he hasn’t.

It continues to ring but no one picks up, she doesn’t hear his gruff tones wanting to know what she wants, or his equally rough but succinct ‘leave a message’ voicemail cue either. She disconnects with a frown.

She makes another quick phone call.

Dinner can wait.

* * *

 

His car is parked up outside of his apartment block. Jess parks beside it and climbs out. She goes to the trunk and unlocks it, extracting dry cleaning and a securely wrapped casserole dish. It contains her tuna casserole, something she knows he likes and it’s a good enough excuse for her to visit just in case he is writing and she’s interrupted him. She slams the trunk shut and locks it and heads into the apartment building.

He lives alone on the top floor, taking up the entire space and she’s the only one he trusts enough to have a key.

As she goes into the lobby area, she sees that his post box is stuffed full to overflowing. He tends to ignore things like mail until the building super threatens trouble and then he goes to pick it up, moaning and grumbling every step of the way. She sighs and heads to it and for the next few moments, she carefully juggles dry cleaning and food as she goes through the process of sorting through the variety of envelopes which she then shoves into her purse that’s looped over her shoulder. She heads to the elevator.

* * *

 

She unlocks the door and peers around the edge.

“Bucky?” she calls as she opens it wider, pulling her key out of the lock and she slides in, nudging the door shut behind her. She listens for a moment but can’t hear a thing. The apartment is silent.

Which is odd, because even when he’s working, there’s always something going on, always some kind of background noise, whether it’s the TV burbling ignored in the background, music playing or just him muttering to himself. She can’t hear anything. She takes a deep breath and heads into the large living area.

“Hey Bucky, I know you said to call ahead first if I was planning on dropping by but you’re not answering your phone and I got a bit worried. Don’t yell at me, okay?” she calls out as she walks through the doorway.

The room is in semi darkness, the curtains are pulled across but the room looks like a bomb has been dropped on it. Again, nothing unusual. Tidiness is not his forte.  It’s warm in here and she can smell something hanging on the air. She pauses as she tries to recognise it and then she does; whisky. She drapes the dry cleaning over the sofa and places the casserole dish on the cluttered coffee table and opens the curtains, flooding the room in bright light. She turns and her eyes widen.

The place looks like it’s been trashed because it has been. Her mouth drops open when she sees the mess. Books are scattered across the floor, pages gaping open where they’ve fallen. Some of the shelves are bare. It’s just as well that they are built in because she thinks they’d be overturned too. She sees empty scotch bottles scattered across the floor, joining the array of books, jagged shards gleaming in the afternoon light. She turns to the large mantelpiece that dominates one wall, it’s where his literary awards usually are and she sees them on the floor amidst the debris.

A cold feeling pools in the pit of her stomach. Has he been robbed? Her eyes are still wide as she moves in a small circle, trying to see if anything is missing but all of his electronics are still in place and she can see his wallet amidst the debris of his writing desk. She heads to it, picks it up and opens it. It contains cash and credit cards and she allows herself a small sigh of relief. Not robbed then. Given that she can smell booze on the air, it’s a fair chance he got drunk and trashed the room himself. The question is, why?

“God,” she mutters, dropping his wallet back into the chaos again. His work space is empty, apart from the monitor and keyboard, the large computer monitor is in standby mode and she watches the screensaver images twist, turn and waltz across the screen. They’re a variety of photographs taken from times gone by. She recognises herself, her eight year old daughter Olivia and various friends on there. Bucky doesn’t have any blood family around so he sees his friends as his surrogate family.

Judging by the bottles keeping the books company on the floor, she can only assume his last work session didn’t end so well.

“Bucky?” she calls out. No response.

“Shit,” she mutters and heads towards his bedroom. She can feel her heart begin to thump in her chest as she gets nearer. She’s afraid at what she might find. The absolute silence is unnerving her.

* * *

 

The bedroom door is slightly ajar and she pauses for a moment, pressing her palm up against the smooth wood. She briefly closes her eyes and takes a slow deep breath before opening them and pushing the door open, stepping through. Into what, she doesn’t know.

“C’mon rise and shine, Buckaroo,” she instructs him, imposing a deliberate jolliness to her tone that she knows annoys the hell out of him. Silence. Like the living room, his bedroom is in semi darkness. She can smell a sourness in the air that’s a little different to the odour in the living room. She frowns and then recognises it with cold clarity.

She quickly heads to the window and pulls the curtains open, not caring if the sudden brightness rouses him and puts him in a bad mood. She blinks for a second and then turns, fully expecting to see him face down in the centre of his bed. He’s not there and it momentarily surprises her until she sees that the sheets and blankets are pulled to one side.

“Jesus…Bucky,” she hisses and skirts around to the opposite side of the bed.

And sees him lying face down on the floor. Clad in just underwear and a t-shirt.

“Fuck,” she hisses, her eyes widening in alarm and she hurries towards him.

He’s lying face down in a pool of vomit. She drops to her knees beside him and pushes him onto his side.

“Hey…hey… Bucky…wake up,” she whispers, fear making her heart pound in her chest.

He’s horribly pale, verging on grey and she can see smears of vomit cover the lower half of his face and there’s more of it threaded through his hair. She brushes his hair away from his face and crouches down and she listens.

He also doesn’t seem to be breathing.

She attempts to clean some of the vomit away before she manages to prise his mouth open and she grimaces as she sticks two fingers inside and gives it a swipe, trying not to throw up herself as she dislodges more vomit, pulling her hand free as he gives a sudden hoarse gasp. His shoulders shudder in warning and more empties out, splattering the front of his t-shirt and the sheet he’s lying on.

“Bucky?” she whispers fearfully as she moves closer to him, sliding her arms around his upper body and with all of her strength she begins to haul him upright, and he slumps against her, a heavy weight against her body, his head resting on her shoulder. She feels her knees slide in the vomit as she holds tightly onto him, her arms tight around him as she hears him give a weak cough, his breath catching in his throat as he struggles to breathe. She gently strokes his back.  Her heart is throbbing in her chest and she can feel scared tears fill her eyes. She should call the paramedics but her phone is in the back pocket of her jeans and she can’t let go of him to retrieve it. It’s taking all of her strength to keep him upright.

He slowly moves his head so that his forehead rests against her shoulder and she listens to his breath rattle in his chest and hears how he gasps for air

“Don’t make me call the fucking paramedics, you asshole,” she hisses at him, her voice rough as she tightens her grip around him, stroking the back of his head. She keeps him upright with all of her strength and most of her will, keeps him steady as he leans boneless against her. She rests the side of her head against his, listening to his breath continue to rattle in his throat and she contemplates trying to reach for her phone and calling the paramedics anyway.

Finally she hears him give a low moan and begin to move again, feels him try to push against the restraints he can feel banded around his upper body.

“Get off me,” she hears him mumble, his words thick and slurred.

“Shut up,” she answers. Slowly he lifts his head from her shoulder. His eyes are beginning to open and he’s still trying to shrug her off. The scotch fumes coming off him are strong enough to make her eyes water. “It’s Jess, Buck, stop tryin’ to fight me,” she tells him and this time he makes more of an effort to open those eyes and blinks at her, trying to focus. They’re bleary and blood shot.

“Jess…Whaddaya doin’ here?”  He then takes in his surroundings. “Oh God, what happened?” he moans.

“Steve called me worried you weren’t answering your phone. Your work space is trashed, you haven’t been answering your phone to anyone, no voicemail or anything and I just found you face down in a puddle of your own puke, which I’m currently kneeling in thank you very much. Just as well I decided to show up when I did,” she answers, her voice shaky but she’s not sure whether it’s from fear or the emerging anger. Neither does he, judging by the way he’s looking at her.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time. You’re a mess. When was the last time you took a shower for God’s sake? You stink.” She lets go of him and for a moment he continues to lean weakly against her, his body warm and still heavy against her own. Then he straightens up.

“I’m okay,” he mutters, sitting clumsily back so that he’s leaning against the side of his bed and she watches as he covers his face with his hands, pauses and then looks down at his stained t-shirt and then at his hands. Jess slowly gets to her feet. Her legs are shaking. She looks down at the wet patches that mark both knees of her jeans.

“You seriously need to shower and put on some clean clothes.”

He looks up at her, blinking. He’s still ghoulish pale with dark shadows beneath his eyes. He’s sluggish, his brain obviously still trying to catch up with the day’s events.

“I said… I’m okay,” he repeats a little louder.

“Raising your voice at me doesn’t mean that I believe you Buck, you look far from okay. Get up. I’ll get your shower started.” She heads to the bathroom and then pauses. She looks at him over her shoulder. He hasn’t moved and his eyes are closed. She’s worried and wonders, again, whether to call those paramedics. Maybe he needs his stomach pumped. Then she looks at the mess on the floor and on her jeans and thinks perhaps he doesn’t.

“Don’t make me come back in here. Get up. Now.” She hardens her voice and sees his frown in response.

“Okay, okay damn it. You can be such a bitch, do you know that?” he grumbles, reaching for the side of his bed. She watches as he attempts to haul himself upright but it’s as though his knees are made of rubber and instead of standing upright, he drops onto the mattress instead.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“Give yourself a couple of minutes to get your land legs but if you’re not in that shower in five, I’m going to drag you in there and hold you under myself and you know that I’ll do it, I _have_ done it before and _that_ shower was cold.”

He just glares at her but doesn’t answer. He does know. Instead he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath and scratches at his beard.

“Do you need to puke again?” she asks. His eyes flash up to hers and then he shakes his head.

“Five minutes Bucky, I mean it.”

“Yeah yeah, quit naggin’,” he mumbles

“I’ll quit naggin’ when you quit gettin’ black out drunk,” she snips back at him and heads to the bathroom.

* * *

 

The first thing that she does is wash her hands. As she dries them, she catches sight of her reflection in the mirror and she swears she’s almost as pale as he is. She also sees the vomit that’s smeared across her right shoulder and she sighs. She’ll sponge them off in the kitchen. She then locates a couple of clean towels and leaves them on the rail outside of the shower cubicle where she knows he can easily reach them and she leans in and switches it on. She heads out and she sees he’s still seated on the side of his bed, his head in his hands. Jess goes back to the living room where she retrieves the casserole and takes it into the kitchen. She doubts he’ll be in the mood for food right now. Past experience reminds her that he’s not good with solid food when he’s hungover and soon he’ll have one killer of a one. So she pushes the casserole dish into the fridge and then hunts down a cloth she can use to get rid of the puke stains on her clothing, a brush and pan to clear up the broken glass and after that, a laundry basket so she can strip down his bed.

* * *

 

She picks up his dry cleaning and heads back to his bedroom, mentally bracing herself for another battle with him to get into the shower but he’s not there and the door to his bathroom is closed.

She’s stripping the soiled bedding and pushing it into the plastic laundry basket at her feet when she hears an almighty crash. Her heart jumps in her chest and she turns her head in the direction of the bathroom. She waits, ready to hear him tell her he’s okay but he doesn’t. She frowns and heads out of his room and over to the bathroom door.

“Bucky?”

She taps on the door and presses her ear against the wood. She can hear the hiss of the shower jet but nothing else.

“Bucky? Are you okay?” she continues. She reaches for the door handle. “I’m coming in…” she tells him as she turns the handle and pushes it open.

The room is filled with steam but she sees him straight away, slumped down in the cubicle, a curled up silhouette. She rolls her eyes.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself and goes to open the cubicle door.

He’s leaning against the tiled wall, oblivious to the water pouring over him. On the floor by his feet is an upturned bottle of shower gel and she can see by the soap that covers half of his body, he’s tried at least to clean himself up. She sighs and leans in and switches off the shower jet.

“Bucky?” She leans down, giving his shoulder a shake, watching his eyes roll behind the lids.

“C’mon man, help me out here, I can’t pick you up,” she tells him and watches how his eyes slowly, eventually open. He looks up at her and blinks. Takes in his surroundings and frowns.

“God damn it, my arm…” he mutters.

“Did you hit your head?” she asks him, her eyes scoping out the tiles, the floor, him. She can’t see any blood.

“No,” he mumbles.

Jess grabs one of the towels from the railing nearby and loops it over her shoulder.

“C’mon, up you get…” She hooks an arm around his back and helps him to his feet. He sways and blinks, one of his arms automatically bracing against the shower cubicle wall. He’s breathing heavily.

“Maybe we should get you to see a doctor?” she suggests. He looks at her and then shakes his head, groaning quietly as he does so. He let’s go of the wall to press his hand against his forehead and almost loses his balance again in the process. Jess braces herself, almost falling with him.

“No. I’ll be…okay…soon…” he mumbles. He watches as Jess unhooks the towel from over her shoulder and wraps it around his waist and tucks it in. She catches sight of the thin scars that score his upper body, across his ribcage and stomach. As she helps him out of the shower, she sees more across the broad expanse of his back. She swallows down a gasp. She was told by army personnel that he received injuries probably from torture while as a prisoner of war and that he would likely have scars but the only ones she’s ever seen were the ones surrounding his prosthesis and on his feet. Some things become clearer to her now; she can’t remember the last time she’s seen him without a shirt since he came home, those times she’s held him under a cold shower, he was always dressed and he’d bitch and whine at her during every single second of it. It would seem that he hides the worst scars beneath t-shirts and singlet tops. She leads him to the toilet, pushing the lid down and directing him to sit down, which he does, rather heavily, holding onto his upper right arm as he almost slides right off.

“This is not good Bucky,” she murmurs, crouching down in front of him. He sits still, his eyes closed, only opening them when he feels her hand slide down his arm to cover his hand. Stares into her eyes. He doesn’t answer. She lets go, takes a deep breath and straightens up.

She locates his toothbrush which she gives a quick swipe under a running cold water tap and she squeezes a little paste onto it. She then crouches down beside him again. His eyes are still shut and she recognises the deep breathing that he’s attempting to do. Sees how his right hand shakes. She sighs quietly.

“Open your mouth for me, Buck,” she requests and sees him open his eyes, a question in them and she lifts the brush. “Unless you want to try for yourself?” He sighs, closes his eyes again and obediently opens his mouth.

She quickly brushes his teeth and tells him to spit into the sink, which he does. He remains still as she rinses his toothbrush and replaces it on the shelf below the mirror.

“Why don’t you go back to your room and put some clothes on?” she suggests, helping him to his feet once more. She moves him in the direction of his bedroom and watches how he slowly, experimentally walks ahead of her, like a toddler just figuring out how to put one leg in front of the other and if she hadn’t caught sight of those scars on his back then she would’ve smiled, maybe even laughed. Now she watches him leave, unable to tear her eyes away from the raised white and pink welts that stripe across the skin of his back and it makes her swallow against a suddenly thick throat. He won’t thank her for her tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the previous chapter.
> 
> (Again, any errors are my own and unintentional.)

**Two.**

The next time she sees him he’s clad in a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. His feet are bare. His overlong dark hair hangs around his face in damp strands. He’s still godawful pale though and that worries her even more.

“Don’t look at me like that Jess. What are you doin’?” he demands.

Jess looks down at the garbage bag in her hand and takes a deep shaky breath.

“Cleaning up. You’ve gone through four bottles of scotch since I last saw you Bucky, your liver will not thank you for that and watch where you step, I’m not sure I’ve got all the broken glass.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business what or how much of it I drink Jess so zip it will ya?” he retorts as she expects him to. He doesn’t like to be babied and he doesn’t like to be nagged. She’s the only one he lets get anywhere close to doing either. She watches as he picks his way through the debris and sits at his desk, hearing the whoosh of the soft leather chair beneath his weight. He surveys the wreckage.

“Damn it, I musta really tied one on,” he mutters more to himself.

“You don’t remember?”

Bucky shakes his head. Even if he did, he wouldn’t tell her.  He leans back and closes his eyes. She stares at him and then puts the bag to one side.

“You want to talk about it? About what caused it?” she asks instead. His eyes open and lift to hers. He has the most beautiful blue grey eyes she’s ever seen. One minute they can be summer blue with smiles and laughter and the next ocean grey with anger or annoyance. She's seen more of the latter recently.

“Not particularly,” he mutters and looks away.

“You think I’m judging you?” she asks and once again his eyes tick up to her face.

“You always give me such a hard time Jess, what do you think?” he retorts. She sighs and sits herself down on the edge of the coffee table, thankful it’s sturdy enough to hold her weight.

“Because these things are starting to happen far too often for my peace of mind Bucky. This is the second time this month I’ve come here and found you either out of your head drunk or just passed out drunk. This is the first time I’ve found you face down in a puddle of your own vomit and I dread to think what coulda happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did. You were barely breathing.” Her voice rises, shakes a little and she stops, biting her lip. “I’m just worried about you, I know what you went through… back there …was…horrific but God, you need to start talkin’ to someone again. Steve has a friend at the VA….”

“Jess, please don’t start that again, I’m fine!” Bucky interrupts, getting to his feet. She follows suit, standing in front of him when he pauses and he sways on his feet. Maybe standing up like that may have been a good idea for dramatic effect but not such a good idea for him when he’s sick and hungover.

“You know that’s a lie. You’re not fine, you haven’t been fine for a very long time.”

Since he got back from Iraq, where he spent three years as a prisoner of war. She still remembers that skeletal, half-starved long haired bearded stranger who she’d wheeled from the military aircraft five years before, the neatly pressed t-shirt and khakis the army kitted him out in hanging off his frame, the left sleeve empty from where his arm used to be. Still remembers how he frowned at the press crowded around, blinking dazedly in the bright light of freedom. Shrank from the never ending attention. He was sick, barely functioning and confused as to what the hell was going on, unable to cope with the attention his story was attracting.

Today he has a top of the range prosthetic replacement, a product of STARK Industries. It’s the best that money can buy, a revolutionary prototype that can do pretty much anything his right arm and hand can do with equal dexterity and delicacy. He even has a degree of feeling in it. It’s made of vibranium, the rarest but strongest metal in the world and dark in colour. The plates are edged in a dull gold. Jess doesn’t want to know what favours Tony had to pull in to get his hands on it; because the metal is so rare, its sale and use of is strictly monitored.

Bucky spent six months in an army rehabilitation centre undergoing physical recuperation as well as several revolutionary surgeries to rebuild his damaged shoulder socket. Making it strong enough to support the prosthetic, attaching various nerves and muscle to the new arm which promised him a near normal functioning limb before being honourably discharged. He participated in a compulsory but rudimentary mental evaluation whilst he was in the centre but upon his discharge he refused any further therapy and nothing Jess or anyone else can say or do to try and persuade him to continue will make him change his mind.  For a year after his hospital stay he more or less hid himself away from just about everyone, seeing next to no one until he was ready to be seen and when he was, his first manuscript was written.

James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to his closest friends, is a different man to the one who left that hell hole in Iraq. A completely different man to the one who was deployed when Olivia was just a baby.

Jess recognises the frail shell of a man she once remembered as being charm personified with an easy smile and a warm easy going nature. That man is a distant memory.

To the rest of the world he’s James B. Barnes, reclusive New York Best Selling Author. His debut novel, about a former soldier dealing with memory loss and post-traumatic stress disorder all the while acting as a mercenary for hire sold a million copies in its first week of publication. His second sold two million in the same time frame. His third is due for imminent release and he’s in the process of writing his fourth hence the deadline she reminded Steve that Bucky was working under.

“Damn it Jess,” he sighs.

She glares at him. “Save it. I know the drill, I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna tell me that you’re okay and that this is your way of coping and normally I’d let you get on with it, cope as you see fit but this… _this_ … is not normal, not even for you and it worries me,” she confesses, feeling tears lurking suspiciously near to the surface. She pauses and blinks and then looks at him. He’s staring at her somewhat dumbfounded. She then takes a deep breath and gives her head a shake.

“Never mind. I’ll get you some coffee and some painkillers. Why don’t you get some shoes on and make a start on picking up some of your books while I do?” she suggests. He’s still staring at her a little blankly and when he opens his mouth to say something, she turns and quickly heads out of the room, towards the kitchen.

* * *

 

She’s trembling as she makes her way around the kitchen, clearing away dirty dishes, picking up the large array of empty bottles left forgotten on a variety of surfaces, loading up the dishwasher and preparing the promised coffee. It’s her special skill set according to Bucky; the ability to multi-task.  She tries to push her worries to the back of her mind as she opens the door of the fridge and checks the contents, dumping out out of date food as well the milk when she realises that it smells decidedly suspicious. She makes a mental note to do some grocery shopping for him later. She knows that there’s a notebook in one of the drawers somewhere, she can start a list.  As she closes the fridge door, she sees Bucky standing on the other side of it and it makes her jump. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises. She looks at him.

“Sorry for what? Blacking out and trashing the place? It’s not the first time you’ve done that or apologised for it.” Her tone is brittle, fragile and that’s exactly how she feels, how he makes her feel after a binge such as this one. She feels that if he pushes back hard enough, she’ll shatter into a million pieces.

She moves away from him as her throat grows thick again and she feels fresh tears crowd the backs of her eyes. She hunts through a couple of drawers, sorting through the detritus until she finally finds what she’s searching for; a notebook and a pen. Bucky remains still, watching as she begins to scribble things down on the page.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he continues. She glances at him before returning to her task.

“And yet you did.” Both of them hear the _‘again’_ that remains unspoken.

“I’m a fuck up Jess, I know that,” he perseveres. She stops what she’s doing and for a moment she just stares at the notepad before she lowers the pen and she slowly turns her head and she looks at him once more.

“You are and yet you won’t do anything about it. It’s almost as if you like it.”

He doesn’t reply to that comment and she doesn’t expect him to.

“I don’t ask you to do this, to check up on me, to clean up my apartment, do my laundry or my grocery shopping for me. I didn’t and I don’t. ”

Bucky watches as her blue eyes ice over.

“And if I didn’t, what do you think would happen to you? If I hadn’t shown up today when I did, and incidentally I did because Steve called me, worried, what do you think the odds are that I would’ve gotten a phone call from Peggy or the local PD telling me they’d found your body?” she snipes back at him. He opens his mouth and then swiftly closes it again. Instead he just shakes his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m sorry.”

She turns more fully to face him.

“That’s the thing Bucky, you never do want to talk about it but maybe one day you will and I want you to know that you can talk to me. Remember how we used to do that? Shoot the breeze over beer and chips and pizza? We talked about everything and anything.”

“That was before…”

Before he was deployed. Before she was the mother of a tiny helpless baby girl whose father was working all the hours of the clock to make the business he was trying to get off the ground a success. She also remembers Bucky calling around with pizza and beer when being Olivia’s mother got to be too much, when she was doubting her capabilities both as a mother and as a wife. He’d show up like a good luck charm and she was always so stupidly glad to see him.

“I remember how good you were with Olivia,” she murmurs quietly. She goes to the coffee pot now burbling happily away and hunts out a clean mug for him, pouring some of it into it and handing it to him. His hand still shakes slightly as he accepts it from her, looking down into it.

“Where is the munchkin?” he asks as he takes a sip.

“In school. Tony will pick her up, take her back to his place tonight.”

“I’m surprised he can find the time amidst his quest for world domination,” Bucky mutters and Jess rolls her eyes.

“Despite all of his faults and yes, he has a few, he’s a good father to his daughter Bucky and you know it.” Tony is a touchy subject between them. He was her college boyfriend and nowadays the two men tolerate each other to keep Jess happy. It doesn’t matter that it’s Tony’s company that funded and created the prosthetic arm that Bucky now has. That he’s worth billions now. Or that he left Jess well off financially after their divorce when Olivia was four; the two men have never really got along.

“And I like Pepper, she’s a good influence on both of them,” she tags on, meaning Tony’s second wife of two years. Bucky just rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. He watches Jess move around his kitchen, getting rid of the trash, cleaning surfaces, setting the dishwasher away and generally putting his life back together again as she usually does. It’s true what he said to her though, he doesn’t ask her to do any of this, she just does it.

“If you say so,” he mutters.

“If you met Pepper, you’d like her too, she’s more suited to Tony and his moods and his genius than I ever was.” Jess heads to a wall cupboard and opens a door. Bucky watches her peer in and then take something out, a small white plastic bottle which she opens and shakes a couple of its contents out; painkillers. She walks towards him and holds out her hand. “Take them. Make sure you drink plenty of water even if it makes you want to puke. I can’t begin to think about how dehydrated you must be.” She tips them out onto his right hand and she watches him pop them into his mouth and chase them down with a mouthful of coffee.

“Tony didn’t deserve you, period,” he tells her once he’s swallowed them down. Jess gives a little shake of her head and a roll of her eyes but doesn’t reply.

“I’ll stay with you tonight,” she tells him instead.

“Jess…you don’t need to…I’ll be….”

“Fine? You _scared_ me Bucky, seeing you lying face down like that? I thought you were _dead_!” she hisses at him and anything he was about to say, dries up in his mouth. His mouth snaps shut and he stares at her wide eyed.

She huffs out a breath and then shakes her head once more, turning away from him to busy herself again.

“Jess… Jess… _hey_ …”

She pauses when she feels his hand grasp her upper arm. Hears how his voice softens. He turns her around.

“I’m sorry…I’m _sorry_. I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t be mad,” he beseeches. Jess sighs and looks into his repentant blue grey eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you Bucky…”

She sees the shock bloom.

“You won’t, I swear. Listen, I’ll cut back, I’ll cut down. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

The look she gives him is sad and disbelieving.

“You need to want to do it for yourself Bucky, not to please someone else otherwise you’re setting yourself up for failure,” she reminds him.

She allows him to draw her into his arms. She can still smell the faint scent of alcohol on his skin as she wraps her arms around him and holds him tight, resting her head for a moment against the hollow of his shoulder. Then she looks at him.

“Go and lie on the couch, you look just about ready to fall over,” she tells him, unwrapping her arms from around him.

“Okay,” he murmurs, letting go of her too.

“Maybe a little sleep will do you some good. I’m still gonna stay tonight though, that part’s non-negotiable,” she continues.

“Fine, whatever you say,” he sighs back at her, shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

“Go on…” She gives him a little nudge towards the living room and for the second time that day watches him trudge away from her, taking his coffee cup with him.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky makes an admission.

**Three:**

He’s sleeping on the couch, looking surprisingly soft and vulnerable. He doesn’t stir as she drapes a blanket over him and as an afterthought she places a bucket on the floor beside his head.

She pushes the soiled bedding into the washing machine and then puts fresh sheets and linen on his bed, picking up discarded books and piling them neatly on the bedside table along the way. He keeps his sleeping area very spartan. There isn’t a lot of furniture in here; a walk in closet that holds a variety of clothing; suits, shirts and ties for business meetings that he very rarely attends, jeans, sweats, t-shirts and button down shirts for day to day wear. When he’s writing he tends to live in those sweatpants and t-shirts. There’s also a tall book case beside the window which is crammed full of paperbacks, a pair of bedside tables that hold a lamp each and more books, another smaller book case further along from one bedside cabinet. There’s no expensive built in furniture here. It’s all separate, portable.

* * *

 

She checks on him again before retreating to the kitchen. She pulls her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and calls Steve. He answers quickly.

“Is he okay?” he all but demands. Jess lowers herself onto a kitchen chair and exhales quietly, briefly closing her eyes.

“Yeah. He just drank too much and passed out, that’s all. I’m still looking for his cell, God knows where he’s put it. He’s sleeping it off but he’ll be okay.” She’s decided not to tell him about the almost choking on his own vomit scenario.

“He’s drinking too much Jess, he needs to get some help before it overtakes him.” She hears the initial relief in his voice quickly be overtaken by worry and she leans back a little, staring up at the ceiling now, pulling the fingers of her free hand through her jaw length blonde hair and once more she thinks about those scars on his back.

“I know but you know how he is. He has to want to do that himself and until he’s ready to talk about the why, he won’t.”

It’s Steve’s turn to sigh. “I know….”

“He’s still keeping to his deadline though, so you don’t have to worry about that at least.”

“Oh the hell with the deadline, I just want him to be okay,” Steve retorts.

“Yeah. Me too. I’m gonna stay with him tonight, keep an eye on him. Olivia is spending the night with her dad.”

“You’re a good friend to him Jess.”

She smiles faintly at his words.

“He’s family Steve, plain and simple. Look, I’ll call you again tomorrow morning sometime, or I’ll email you, whichever is easiest. I need to call my ex-husband.”

“Oh boy, I don’t envy you that task.”

Jess rolls her eyes. “We get along for the most part….”

“Unless Bucky’s involved somewhere and then it changes,” Steve reminds her.

“I know. God I wish I knew what the hell is wrong with them both…” she sighs, giving her head a shake.

“Maybe you should ask them.”

Jess gives a short, humourless laugh. Oh she’s tried and never got a straight answer out of either of them.

She ends the call to Steve and then stares at her cell for a moment before she calls Tony.

“Hey.”

He’s not one to mess around with greetings and salutations and once more she rolls her eyes.

“It’s me.”

“Oh I know. How is he?”

Not one for names either.

“He’ll be fine.”

“Passed out drunk again? Not answering his phone, getting you all worried so you’ll go running to him?” He can’t keep the arch tone out of his voice.

“Don’t be an ass, Tony. He has no one.”

“Apart from you? Somehow I doubt that. He seems to have a never ending stream of females at his beck and call when he needs them. He just doesn’t sleep with you.”

Jess feels annoyance swell at Tony’s cruel jab.

“Do you _have_ to be so fucking disgusting? Why do you have to be such a dick about him? You know what he’s gone through,  would you be able to endure what he did for three years and come out anywhere near whole at the other end? I doubt it somehow,” she hisses back at him.

“Well that’s the thing Jessamyn, we don’t know exactly what he went through because he won’t talk about it. Not even with you.”

“I know that he was held captive by enemy forces for those three years, half-starved and tortured. He lost an arm. We all thought he was dead until I got the notification that he’d been rescued, barely alive. Maybe what he went through was so traumatic that he physically can’t bring himself to talk about it, have you ever stopped to consider that fact?”

“There are people out there who can help him Jess, people more qualified than you…”

“And you know that it has to be his choice to talk to them Tony. Listen, I’m not gonna argue with you about him again because we end up going around in circles. I just called to say thanks for picking up the slack with Olivia. Is she okay?”

“Oh she’s fine. Pepper is helping her with homework, apparently she’s much cooler than I am.”

“Because she’s right?” Jess can’t help but tease, hoping to diffuse the tension lying between them and manages to smile when she hears him chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, you’re right, she is. Will you be picking Olivia up from school tomorrow?”

“Sure. Bucky should be back on his feet by then,” Jess answers.

“Until the next time.”

She knows he’s right, knowing Bucky there _will_ be a next time and it sits coldly in the pit of her stomach.

“Thanks for today Tony. Give Olivia a hug and a kiss from me will you?”

“Always. Take care Jess.” She knows that he doesn’t mean it as an endearment, he means for her to take care of herself where Bucky is concerned.

“Always do Tony, I always do.”

She disconnects the call and places her phone on the table and sighs again.

* * *

 

She transfers the bed linen into the dryer and sets the cycle and heads into the living room. Bucky is still stretched out on the sofa and seems to be still sleeping. She watches him for a moment before she begins the task of retrieving his books and literary awards from various points on the floor.

She spends time stacking the books back onto the empty shelves and in the process comes across a couple of photo frames. One is of them both together, sitting side by side at a mutual friend’s barbecue, both grinning up at the camera. She takes in both of their faces, the broad grins, squinting against the sun shining in their eyes. She was engaged to Tony by then, a tiny chip of a solitaire on her ring finger. He promised to buy her something more special, more substantial once his company got off the ground but it never got that far. He became a workaholic instead and she became more of an afterthought to him and once she was informed that Bucky was MIA, probably dead, she withdrew deeper into herself. By the time either of them realised what was happening, it was too late; the marriage was in its death throes.

And then she got that phone call. That Bucky was alive.

She hightailed it to his side and in the process her marriage irreparably crashed and burned.

She takes a deep shaky breath and carefully places the frame on the book case before retrieving the second one. She already knows who the subject of this one is and she smiles fondly down at the infant with a shock of dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. Olivia Katharine Maria Stark. Her and Tony’s only child and Bucky’s goddaughter. It was taken at her baptism and Bucky is positively beaming at the camera, carefully but proudly cradling the six week old infant, looking resplendent in his dress uniform. Two and a half months after the photo was taken, he was deployed and apart from letters and the occasional email, it was the last time she set eyes on him.

* * *

 

She finishes stacking up his books and retrieving his awards. His debut novel, _The Line,_ earned him countless literary awards and accolades. It struck a chord with the American public and copies flew out of the stores and it ended up having several print runs. She carefully places the heavy marble and glass awards on the mantelpiece, where he’s placed them before almost as an afterthought. No specially constructed, specially lit display cabinet for him. They’re just there, given to him whether he wants them or not. He rarely appears in person to collect them, usually preferring to send Steve in his place. He doesn’t enjoy the publicity that surrounds each publication, doesn’t consent to interviews either on television or in print. He’s reclusive to the point of becoming a hermit and seems content with that, benders aside. He has his group of friends, those he considers family as well as the drinking buddies. When he’s with those, he can go missing for days usually showing up in a cheap hotel somewhere, hungover with his wallet missing more often than not. She’s lost count of how many times she’s collected him off the sidewalk, his face contrite, in front of some nameless hotel.

She sweeps and mops the now cleared floor and she’s pretty sure she’s scooped up all the glass from the broken scotch bottles but she knows how insidious those tiny shards of glass can be. She huffs out another sigh and she frowns as she thinks back to her earlier conversation with her ex-husband.

Tony has a point, he needs to begin to take responsibility, to seek help but right now he’s not there yet, no matter what he might promise her and she will always feel responsible for him. She won’t abandon him, no matter what. It’s something she promised him when she saw him in hospital after his release and she never goes back on her promises. Despite what Tony might claim, Bucky needs her.

* * *

 

She hears him mutter something under his breath. His voice is low, thick and slurred so she can’t quite make out what he’s saying. She looks his way and she sees the frown that furrows his brow, his eyes rolling beneath their lids, facial muscles twitching. Her heart spasms as his body gives a jump, his hands clenching into fists, gripping onto the blanket and she hears the quiet whirr of the cybernetics of his left arm and hand. She waits for him to settle but his frown deepens. Slowly she approaches him and sees the perspiration that marks his brow. He’s still muttering but she can’t understand what he’s saying.

“Bucky…” she murmurs, crouching down beside the sofa. Once again he frowns and turns his head in her direction but he doesn’t wake up.  His voice becomes louder but his growing distress is very real. Wherever he is, he’s locked in tight.

His chest begins to heave and she hears panic filter through and a similar emotion rises within her also.

“Hey…hey…” Gently she places a hand on his chest and he jolts awake with a cry and stares blindly at her, eyes wide, tear filled. Terrified by something. 

“It’s Jess. You were having a nightmare,” she tells him, keeping her voice level and low and she hears him inhale sharply before loudly exhaling. She keeps her hand in place a second longer, only removing it when he recognises her.

“Jess…God… sorry…” he whispers. She watches his eyes wheel around the room, as if trying to remember where he is. “Damn it.” He rolls onto his side and the frown returns. “Damn it.”

“Don’t apologise,” she tells him and watches as he slowly sits up. “Do you want to talk about what it was you were dreaming about?” she enquires. He looks at her, his expression almost deliberately blank for a moment before he shakes his head. She watches as he wipes his eyes.

“Y’know you don’t have to stay,” he tells her, resting both elbows on his knees, fingers ploughing through his unkempt hair.

“You keep saying that but I’m staying anyway.”

He turns his head and he looks at her.

“What if I didn’t want you to?”

She hears the challenge and takes a deep breath.

“Do you _want_ me to go?”

He holds her gaze for another moment before he shakes his head, looking away and she sees how he curls an arm across her stomach and gives a grimace. She recognises that expression.

“Oh God…” he hisses.

“Here.” She reaches past him and grabs the bucket, shoving it into his arms as his upper body gives an indelicate lurch. He pitches forward and vomits into it. She goes to sit beside him on the sofa and she gently rubs his back and she waits. Finally he’s done and he gives a gasp and then closes his eyes.

“Finished?” she enquires quietly and after a moment he slowly nods, wiping his mouth with the side of his right hand at the same time. Jess gets to her feet and takes the bucket from him and heads to the kitchen.

* * *

 

When she returns a few moments later, he’s leaning back on the sofa, his eyes still closed. He’s horribly pale and she can see the beads of sweat that mark his forehead. She places the newly cleaned bucket back down beside the sofa at his feet.

“Drink this,” she tells him and watches his eyes flutter open and fix on her. In her hand is a glass of Alka-Seltzer. “It’ll help settle your stomach,” she continues and he reaches out with a shaky hand, taking it from her and taking a tiny experimental sip. She watches how he grimaces.

“Jesus, I’m never drinking scotch again,” he whispers as he leans back against the sofa again pressing the side of the glass against his forehead. Jess bites back a smile as she lowers herself down onto the sofa beside him.

“Until the next time,” she murmurs and sees how he looks at her.

“I mean it this time.”

“You’ve said that before too. Luckily there doesn’t seem to be any more bottles of the stuff in your apartment right now so unless you go out and buy some more, you’ve got more of a chance of sticking to your vow.”

For the first time since she got here, she sees the faintest of smiles cross his face.

“Point taken,” he concedes.

She looks at him for a long moment and bites her bottom lip. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“What?”

Jess looks away for a moment.

“C’mon girl, spit it out. What?” he continues and she looks back at him.

“Earlier…when I helped you out of the shower….I saw the scars…on your back…” Her words falter and then stop as she sees his expression change, any residue of warmth slipping away.

Bucky gives a sigh, slowly shakes his head.

“God… Jess…” he breathes, looking away and down.

“I’m sorry… I know you don’t talk about what you went through out there but I saw them…and I wanted you to know that I saw them. I didn’t want to pretend that I hadn’t.”

Slowly he turns his head back in her direction.

“Now you know why you don’t see me with my shirt off any more.” He attempts to inject a little lightness into his words but they fall flat.

Jess regards him and takes a shaky breath. At the hospital when she first saw him, he was under heavy sedation but she could see bandages wrapped around his upper body beneath the hospital gown he’d worn.

“They tortured you.”  She doesn’t allude to who ‘they’ are. They both know. She already knows that he was tortured out there, his doctors told her that they suspected it but she wants to hear him say it, acknowledge it. Bucky stares back at her and she sees his chin come up a little.

“Yeah. They did,” he finally murmurs. Jess lets out a breath. Finally he’s shared something with her, acknowledged it. She waits for him to say something further, to embellish on his confession but he doesn’t.

“Do they hurt?” she asks instead and holds her breath. His eyes drop down for a moment and it’s his turn to bite his lip as he seems to contemplate on how to respond, if at all.

“Not anymore.”

“But they did.”

He takes a slow deep breath and then he nods.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky extends an invitation. 
> 
> A/N: The MacPherson Award mentioned in this chapter is a figment of my imagination.

**Four:**

It’s late and Bucky is sprawled out in an armchair and he’s watching late night television. Jess thinks that he’s looking a little better now; there’s some colour in his cheeks again and he doesn’t look like he’ll collapse in a heap any time soon. She watches him surreptitiously for a moment before she returns her attention to his mail that’s spread out across his desk. His computer is switched off, the desk neat and tidy once more. She found his phone down the back of it, wedged between it and the wall, the screen cracked, the phone itself broken. It’s another task on her list for tomorrow, get Bucky a new cell phone. She’s lost count of how many she’s replaced over the years. He has a propensity for losing and/or breaking them. She sorts through the variety of envelopes, setting the bills to one side, letters from his publishing company in another pile and invitations to all kinds of events into a third.

“Want me to read through these?” she asks him, turning her head and looking in his direction, at the same time indicating the piles of mail. After a moment he tears his eyes away from the television screen to look at her.

“Sure. I’m not gonna,” he answers and looks back at the screen once more. She sighs and turns back to the task at hand.

“You really should,” she murmurs, her eyes resting on the collection of envelopes.

“That’s why I have you.” She looks back at him to see him watching her again and she sees that gleam in his eyes, the one of old, when he used to tease her,  the one that makes his eyes twinkle. The breath catches at the back of her throat. It’s been so long since she’s seen that. She softly smiles in response.

“What would you do without me, Buck?” she teases back and he smiles at her and his eyes all but light up from within.

“I don’t even wanna think about it,” he replies. He gets to his feet and approaches her.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as he looks down at the mail.

“There should be some coffee left in the pot. Make yourself some too,” she answers, her tone a little distracted as she reaches for the first envelope.

He sighs a little melodramatically.

“Yes mom,” he murmurs and she smiles to herself as she feels the weight of his hand lift from her shoulder and she hears him walk away.

* * *

 

A red mug appears at her left some time later and it startles her a little. She’s been so engrossed in sorting through his mail that she’s lost track of time.

“Anythin’ interesting?” she hears him ask and she lifts her head and she looks at him.

“Do you know that you’ve been listed as a recipient for the MacPherson Award?” she enquires, showing him the letter. She watches how his eyes skim over the contents and he gives a little shrug.

“Steve might’ve mentioned somethin’ a while back but I didn’t really pay attention to it,” he replies.

Jess sighs, dropping the missive back onto his desk and she looks at the elegantly gold scripted letterhead.

“You _should_ pay attention Bucky, in this case you really should,” she tells him, looking up at him again. Sees his mild frown.

“Why?”

“Because the MacPherson is a big deal, a _huge_ deal. Other New York best-selling authors I could mention never got a nomination for this in their career, _ever_. Some of the names I could give you who should’ve but didn’t will make your hair curl.”

“So I got lucky, so what?” He shrugs restlessly, lowering himself down onto a nearby chair and taking a mouthful of his coffee.

“This isn’t because of luck, it’s because your debut novel has been considered by the board of the award to be worthy of the accolade. A list of authors are submitted and they choose a worthy winner. This year, it’s you. You’re about to be welcomed into a very select group of writers, ones whose novels kids today are studying in school,” she tells him and watches his eyes slowly widen as he contemplates this.

“Jesus, Jess…”

“You should be proud.”

“Does it mean that I have to gussy up in a penguin suit and attend in person?”

“Traditionally yes. It’s a dinner with the awards afterwards. The MacPherson is the linchpin. You’d have to wear a suit and tie, make a speech if you like….” She pauses when she sees the reluctance cloud his eyes.

“I know you don’t attend literary dinners or awards. I know that you don’t like them and all of the, to quote you, _‘ass kissing’_ that goes with it. Maybe you can write a speech of thanks and give it to Steve to read on your behalf instead?” she suggests and hears him exhale long and slow.

“Or maybe I could just…attend?” he replies and sees the look of utter surprise that crosses her face at his suggestion.

“Well it would certainly create interest, the reclusive James B Barnes appearing at a literary awards dinner…would you really do that?”

Bucky shrugs. “Well I could…if you came with me…” he tells her.

“Really?”

“Why not? Swanky New York hotel, dinner…”

“But….” Jess just stares at him, wondering what on earth could’ve precipitated this change of mind.

“But what Jessa- _mine_? Would be you interested in attending with me?” he asks, his voice turning silky soft and persuasive. Her mouth opens and promptly shuts. He called her Jessa-mine. Her full name is Jessamyn, everyone calls her Jess but once in a while Bucky will call her Jessa-mine and usually when he wants something from her, such as to accompany him to a literary awards dinner. She smiles at him.

“I’d be glad to,” she concedes gracefully. She smiles when she sees the surprise cross his face. “What? Were you expecting me to turn you down?” she chuckles.

“To be honest…kinda…” he admits.

“You can change your mind y’know, I won’t hold you to it.”

He shakes his head. “No. We’re going. I’ll let Steve know tomorrow….or whenever…just as soon as I get a new phone.” A frown comes and goes.

“I’ll let him know, you’ll probably forget or you’ll change your mind.”  She turns back to the mail and pulls a notepad closer to her and she scribbles down a reminder to call Steve in the morning. He’s going to be stunned that Bucky has finally agreed to attend an awards ceremony. He’s gotten so used to him refusing them that nowadays he doesn’t even ask him or even tell him, just shows up with the award the next day. She drops the pen and turns the chair around to face him, at the same time reaching for her cup of coffee. She takes a sip and then looks down at it in surprise.

“Aww, you made me tea,” she murmurs, a slow smile drifting across her face.

“You don’t like coffee this late. You and your English grandmother,” Bucky teases and she lifts her eyes to his and flashes a smile his way.

“Me and my English grandma,” she echoes, wrapping both hands around the cup, feeling the heat bleed through.

“The one who taught you how to make the best breakfast ever in the history of breakfast making.”

“Is that a hint for tomorrow morning because newsflash Buckaroo, your cupboards as well as your fridge are all but empty.” She sees his pout.

“It was worth a try,” he concedes with a shrug.

“It’s another thing on your ever growing list that needs to be done tomorrow. I brought you some of my equally famous tuna pasta casserole instead, if you’re hungry. I can heat it up for you?” she suggests. She watches as he softly smiles.

“That would be nice,” he replies.

“Tomorrow, after we replace your phone, you’re coming with me grocery shopping,” she tells him and sees his expression change to one of distinct distaste.

“Jesus Jess, me out there with all of that humanity? You think that’s a good idea?”

She bites back a smile.

“When was the last time you went outdoors? I know it’s been a while because this is a few days’ worth of mail. I’m surprised your super wasn’t threatening to burn it.”

“Yeah yeah, he always threatens but never does it. I’d kick his ass if he tried. What day is it?”

“Wednesday…” She sees how he squints as he tries to remember. Then he shrugs.

“Can’t remember,” he answers and she rolls her eyes.

“Why am I not surprised? It’s decided. You and me, tomorrow morning, grocery shopping. We’ll use my car and stop somewhere for breakfast along the way.”

“God, you drive a hard bargain,” he whines.

“What do you expect if you don’t leave this place for days on end, do you think the grocery fairy visits while you sleep? Newsflash mister, he or she doesn’t.”

“I thought that was you,” he replies and flashes a smile at her. She laughs.

“Oh don’t you wish,” she chuckles.

“Well y’know…I keep askin’ but you _could_ work for me officially. I’d pay you and everythin’.”

Jess gives a sigh as she gets to her feet and heads to the kitchen.

* * *

 

“You know it’s a good idea. Olivia is in school now and you pretty much run my life as it is so I might as well pay you for it.”

She glances at him as she opens the door to the fridge and takes out the casserole.

“You don’t have to pay me. It’s not a job to me Bucky, I like taking care of you,” she tells him as she peels back the foil cover of the dish and checks it. He watches as she moves around his kitchen, locating a plastic bowl and a large spoon and sees her scoop some of the dish’s contents into it. She covers it over and pushes it into the microwave and presses a few buttons and watches it hum into life.

“Paying you would make it above board. I feel like I’m takin’ advantage of you sometimes. I’m not always helpless and I want to show you that I appreciate what you do for me.”

“I know you appreciate me Bucky, you just show me in other ways.”  She hears his sigh of discontent.

“You’re the person that I trust most in the world Jess, it would just be the right thing to do that’s all.” She hears the sombre tone of his voice and she looks at him, folding her arms and leaning back against the counter.

“Let’s talk about it again in a couple of days. This late and on an empty stomach isn’t the best time.” Behind her the microwave gives a beep and she flashes a smile at him before going to rescue its contents.

She sits at the table opposite him and watches how he pokes at the pasta with a fork, eyeing it somewhat dubiously.

“Stomach still not liking the idea of solid food yet?” she enquires and he raises his eyes and looks at her.

“Not really but I need to eat something, to make me feel better, just wish my belly thought the same.”

“You could try toast?”

He gives his head a quick shake and she watches him scoop up a small forkful and pop it into his mouth and give it an initial cautious chew. He smiles to himself and swallows it down.

“Maybe your belly realises that you do need to eat, after all,” she quips.

* * *

 

Bright sunlight floods the room as she opens the curtains and she briefly squints against it. It promises to be another beautiful day. She turns her back to it and looks at him. He’s just a motionless lump beneath the assortment of blankets.

“Rise and shine Buckaroo,” she tells him, injecting a deliberate tone of positivity into her voice. He doesn’t move. She sighs and moves closer to the bed and she leans over and gives a covered shoulder a shake. The lump beneath the blankets gives a grunt and she sees the sheets tighten protectively around him.

“C’mon. Time to get up and shower, we have a busy morning ahead.” She claps her hands and it resounds like a gunshot around the room. She sees how he flinches at the sound.

“What time is it?” His voice is low.

“Gone eight.”

“That’s still the middle of the fucking night. Go away.” She watches the sheet tighten around his body further in a protective cocoon and she sighs loudly.

“You promised me you’d come grocery shopping with me and I promised I’d buy you breakfast. I’m not gonna go away so you might as well co-operate.”

“I don’t have to do anything. Fuck off.”

“Sorry. No can do. And you be thankful your goddaughter isn’t here otherwise I’d be forced to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“I’m sure she’s heard worse,” he mumbles back.

“She’s eight, she had better not and not from you either.” She watches as he slowly, resignedly rolls onto his back and pushes the blankets down. He turns his head in her direction, squinting against the brutally bright sunshine flooding every single inch of his room.

“You’re a bitch,” he grumbles as he slowly begins to sit up. She rolls her eyes, folding her arms at the same time.

“So you keep telling me. C’mon, I’ve made coffee. Get your ass out of bed and hit the shower Barnes, the day’s awaiting…” She smiles as he glowers up at her but instead of arguing, he kicks back the blankets. All he wears is a t-shirt and his underpants. He looks at her once more.

“What are you waitin’ for?”

“For you to get to your feet. It’s not the first time you’ve made to get out of bed and changed your mind. If you’re hungry, I can make you some toast to keep you going til we have breakfast. I thought we could go to Joe’s.”

“Now you’re trying to bribe me.”

“Is it working?”

She watches as he turns his head and looks her way once more. A slow smile crosses his face.

“Maybe,” he answers and she grins.

“Get in the shower, Buck.”

* * *

 

She hands him a mug and he grunts his thanks.

“You’re still not a morning person, are you?” she comments as he takes a mouthful. He looks at her as he lowers the mug as if to say _’what gave me away?’_ and swallows. Shakes his head.

“You used to be.”

“Yeah, back when I was stupid. Listen, I was thinkin’ about my offer last night. About you workin’ for me…”

Jess sighs. “Bucky….”

“No…hear me out. I want you workin’ for me, officially. I can’t let you do the shit that you do for me for nothin’. I wanna pay you somethin’, make it all legit. If you won’t accept payment for services rendered, maybe you could use it for somethin’ else.”

“Such as what?”  She’s curious now and she watches him shrug.

“I don’t know. Somethin’ for Olivia. She’s my goddaughter as you like to remind me so maybe there’s somethin’ that she wants or needs.”

Jess widens her eyes sceptically. “With Tony Stark as her father?”

“I know he takes care of her and he should. Her college education will be taken care of, as will her first apartment and probably a car. I don’t know Jess, maybe it can go towards somethin’ else. The mother of all graduation parties. A fantastic vacation. _Somethin’._ ”

Jess just looks at him.

“We have ten years before any of that will happen Bucky,” she reminds him.

“I know. You also told me that Stark gave you a generous divorce settlement which is why you feel that you don’t have to take any money from me and I understand that but Jess, _please_. You know me, you take care of me and I want to repay that. Give the money to charity, do whatever you want with it but say you’ll work for me, as my personal assistant?” He reaches for her hand with his free one and she takes it and allows him to draw her closer to him until he lets go of her and slides his arm across her shoulders and she slips her arms around his waist. She rests her head against the hollow of his right shoulder and she sighs.

“Okay. Okay, you’ve worn me down. I accept, I’ll work for you. Officially. Whatever you want.” She looks up at him and sees that smile, the one that lights him up from within, that makes his eyes glow and she feels it like a punch to the stomach.

“Thank you.” He presses a kiss against her forehead and then smiles again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” He draws her up against him, his hold tightening for a moment. She ignores the flutter in the pit of her stomach. He’s warm, smells of soap, toothpaste and a hint of coffee.

“Don’t make me regret it. One thing though; Olivia comes first. Always. If she needs me for anything then she’s my priority.”

“Of course. We can talk to our lawyers, get it all in writing if you want to, anything you want,” Bucky responds.

She looks at him again. “I trust you.” This time she presses a kiss against his cheek, his beard soft against her lips. “Now finish your coffee and we’ll go grab breakfast to celebrate.”

“My treat,” he tells her, slipping his arm from across her shoulders.

She grins at him. “Damn right it’s your treat so don’t forget your wallet.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Bucky beginning to regret his invitation? Flashbacks are in italics.

**Five:**

“Mr Rogers; Mr Barnes and Mrs Stark are here to see you.”

Steve gives pause as he absorbs this piece of information.

“I’m sorry, did you say Mr Barnes is here, as in _James_ Barnes?” he enquires. There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Yes sir. They don’t have an appointment, should I…”

“No! I have a few minutes, please send them in.”

He’s frowning a little as he replaces the telephone receiver and he sits back in his chair. Bucky is here? He checks his watch. And before noon too?

With Jess. Which could mean something or nothing. Either way he’s utterly intrigued.

He watches his office door open and sees Bucky enter, closely followed by Jess. He gets to his feet as Bucky approaches his desk. He’s clad in his usual out of doors clothing; jeans, boots, t-shirt with a Henley pulled over it. This one is navy blue and it strains at the shoulders and biceps. It would seem his friend still visits the gym between deadlines and benders. He holds a baseball cap in his right hand, the ever present thin black leather glove shrouding his left.  He doesn’t look like Galaxy Publishing’s best-selling author. He has the propensity to look like he’s homeless most of the time. Even though his face graces various posters and book covers here, people still tend to regard him somewhat warily.

“Bucky. Is everything okay?” he asks, his eyes moving between his guests. He sees how Bucky glances at Jess as she comes to stand beside him.

“Chill Steve, everythin’s fine.”

“Not that it’s great to see you in my office but…”

“We were in the neighbourhood that’s all. Thought it would be a good idea for us to touch base, that’s if you have the time? I know publishing is a demanding business,” Jess interrupts.

“No, I have time. Take a seat. Want some coffee?” He lowers himself onto his chair again, lifting the phone receiver to summon Esther.

“No…no more coffee. If I drink any more, I’ll vibrate into the next dimension,” Bucky replies as he sits down. Steve glances across at Jess.

“We’re fine. He’s right, we’ve consumed enough caffeine to sink a submarine this morning,” she confirms.

He slowly replaces the receiver, “Been busy?”

“She dragged me grocery shopping,” Bucky mutters, somewhat aggrieved. Again Steve looks across at Jess who grins at him.

“It was either that or he starves. Breakfast was included in the deal though, he’s neglected to mention _that_.  He also has a new cell phone. Same number. He broke the old one.” She doesn’t go into great detail and Steve feels that she doesn’t need to. Chances are the old one was deliberately broken in a collision with a solid object. It’s not the first phone he’s trashed in a fit of anger, sober or otherwise.

“It’s good to see you out in the daylight Buck,” he comments gently and Bucky lifts his attention from his hands to make eye contact with his best friend and book publisher. A rueful smile tips the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, contrary to belief, I’m not a vampire.” He turns his head and looks at Jess before looking back at him. “And to let you know that I’ll be attending the MacPherson thing next month.”

This piece of information makes Steve blink somewhat in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The MacPherson thing…award ceremony. The whatsit I’m apparently a recipient of? I’ll be attending. Unless it’s too late?”

Is it Steve’s imagination or does Bucky look a little too hopeful that he _is_ too late to attend?

“No. Not too late. I’ll let them know today. What changed your mind?” Bucky never attends these things, ever. Scrutiny makes him uncomfortable and he’ll be under intense scrutiny at this event. Plus it’ll be newsworthy all on its own.  

“He said he’d attend if I accompanied him,” Jess answers.  Once more Steve looks at her and he leans back in his chair, tapping his lower lip with one long finger. He doesn’t know what’s surprised him the most, the fact that Bucky’s going to attend or that Jess is going with him. Anything he’s about to say is interrupted by Jess’s cell phone beginning to ring. Her look is apologetic as she pulls it out of the pocket of her jacket and she checks the caller ID.

“I need to take this.” She gets to her feet and heads out of the office, patting Bucky’s shoulder as she passes him by. He watches her as she leaves, closing the door behind her. He then looks back at Steve.

“I know what you’re gonna say…” he begins.

“Do you now? Are you gonna add psychic to your list of talents now, Buck?” Steve replies smoothly. Bucky just sighs roughly, slumping back in his seat.

“You asked her to the MacPherson thing?”

“It just kinda…slipped out,” Bucky confesses, looking down at his hands again before he sneaks another peek Steve’s way. “She was tellin’ me how it was such a big deal, that there are other best sellers out there who don’t even get looked at and before I knew it…I asked her and she said yes.”

“And you’re having second thoughts.”

Bucky shrugs “No…yes…kinda….” His voice fades away and Steve sighs.

“She’s already said she’ll come with you, it’ll be a great night out and you can even stay in the hotel where the awards are being hosted, considering you’re a recipient. Maybe you can ask Jess if she wants to stay over with you.” He almost grins at the look of absolute fear that crosses Bucky’s face at that idea. “Why not? You’ve been crazy about her since the first moment you saw her. Here’s your chance…” He watches him shake his head ferociously.

“I’m not crazy about her and even if I was, who knows if she feels the same way. I couldn’t. I won’t. Her friendship means much more to me than that!” he hisses back, his cheeks flaming red. Steve knows he’s hit on a very sensitive spot.

“You’re nuts about her Buck, at least admit that to yourself.”

Bucky just gives a loud single sigh and doesn’t say another word.

Both men turn their heads when Jess enters the office again. She smiles Steve’s way as she pockets her phone.

“Just Natasha, she’s heading into the city soon, wanted to meet up for drinks. It’s not often I get to see her so I grab the opportunity when I can.” Bucky sees how she glances his way and he looks away and then down and is pretending great interest in his hands once more. He slides down a little in his chair, shoulders tense and slightly hunched up. “Everything okay?”

“Sure. We were just discussing the MacPherson Award. Did you know that you can stay in the hotel the ceremony is being hosted at? Fully comped. Maybe you and Bucky could share a suite? It would save on cab fares, they throw a hell of a party afterwards.”  Bucky slowly lifts his head to glare murderously at Steve as Jess lowers herself back into her seat. She turns her attention more fully his way.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe you should do it? I can confirm with the MacPherson board if you’re interested.”

“Yeah. Do that,” Jess respond and Bucky looks at her in surprise at her easier than expected acceptance and misses the smile that crosses Steve’s face. “Well considering I’m now officially your personal assistant, it’d be the prudent thing to do,” she reminds him and he sighs deeply but doesn’t respond.

“You’re his personal assistant? Since when?” Steve asks, surprised yet again. He’s amazed that she’s finally agreed, Bucky has been trying to talk her into it for long enough.

“Since about three hours ago. He finally wore me down.” Bucky watches as she gives a roll of her eyes and Steve chuckles.

“We were also discussing the wedding. You’re still planning on attending, right?” Bucky’s eyes flashed to Steve’s once again. They’d done no such thing.

“And miss seeing my daughter as a bridesmaid? You bet I am.” She flashes Steve a smile.

Bucky is going to be his best man and he’ll be lying to say he’s not secretly terrified. The wedding to his fiancée Peggy is in just over a week.

Steve’s grin is equally bright. “Great. It should be a fantastic day.”

* * *

 

They materialise into the heaving metropolis and merge with the rest of humanity.

“You want to go somewhere for lunch?” Jess enquires as Bucky falls into step beside her. He pulls his baseball cap back on, tugging the bill down low over his eyes. The temperatures are rising and already he can feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“No. I need to get back home, catch up with some writing.” Truth be told, he just wants to be back inside where it’s quiet and he can decompress and more than likely brood for a while.

“You okay?” she asks him and he turns his head to glance at her.

“Fine. Maybe just a little overloaded, that’s all.”

He knows that it sounds like an excuse and thankfully she doesn’t call him out on it as she normally would. He _does_ get overloaded if he’s been outdoors for any great length of time and he’s been out of his apartment since first thing this morning barring a return trip to offload groceries and set up his new phone. His head is fairly spinning with the day’s events; breakfast at Joe’s, grocery shopping and talking with Steve and listening to him try to match make.

_Ignores the little voice in the back of his mind that likes the idea of his matchmaking._

“Okay. I can pick my car up and head home. Unless you need me for something?”

“Thanks. And no.”

A few moments slide past where neither of them speak. Bucky navigates the sidewalk, taking in his surroundings in that familiar absent minded way of knowing where he’s going while lost in his own thoughts. And he has a lot of them right now, all jostling for his attention.

“You know…the hotel deal that Steve mentioned…you don’t have to…”Bucky begins as they pause at a crosswalk and wait for the lights to change.

“It’s a good idea. It means I won’t have to navigate the streets of Manhattan at a ridiculously late hour. You like a good party so we wouldn’t have far to go to crash.”

“I like a good party when I know everybody,” he corrects her, “And I don’t want you to think Steve manipulated it or anythin’.”

“And you should know by now that nobody can push me into anything I don’t want to be a part of. It’ll be fine.”

He smiles faintly as he looks at her. “Yeah, I do know. Well…if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” She sees the lights change and pedestrians begin to flood across. She grabs onto his hand. “C’mon,” she tells him and they begin to walk. He curls his fingers around hers. She doesn’t let go of his hand until they reach the opposite sidewalk.

* * *

 

He looks at her as the taxi pulls up outside of his apartment block before he turns his head and takes in the scene outside of the cab, looking up at his apartment building before returning his attention to her her again.

“Thanks for this. Sorry that I couldn’t stomach the subway again.”  They’d travelled into Manhattan via the subway but when she gave him the option for a return journey, the prospect of being in a small narrow rectangular can, hurtling underground at unknown speeds had set off a slow uneasy churn in the pit of his stomach. Sharing space with all those people. It would only take one of them to get a good look at his face and recognise him and the thought of _that_ made sweat pop out on his forehead.

The trip back to his apartment was in silence. He was lost in a myriad of thoughts. She didn’t try to engage him in conversation and he’s grateful for that.

She meets his gaze and she smiles at him and he ignores the traitorous flutter in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s no problem. Promise me you’ll eat something and not pickle your liver in alcohol?” she answers

His eyes widen slightly and he looks down for a moment before he can pluck up the courage to glance her way once more.

“I promise.”

“I’ll call by tomorrow after I’ve dropped Olivia off at school, so make a list of anything that needs to be done and I can take care of it.”

He nods.

“I will.”  If he remembers to. His memory can be spotty sometimes. A personality trait rather than a souvenir. When he’s writing then everything else is pushed to one side.

_When he’s writing_.

“And call me if you need anything, even if it’s just some company,” she continues.

He snaps back to attention and nods again at this, feeling as though his head is permanently on a spring and goes to reach for the door handle. He pauses and looks back at her.

“Thanks Jess. For today…and last night. I was an ass.”

“Yeah, you were a little bit,” she answers with a brief smile. He watches as she then leans forward and presses a kiss on his cheek, near the corner of his mouth before drawing back. He freezes for a moment, his heart literally stops in his chest at the contact. He’s surrounded by the scent of her perfume as he looks down at her mouth and all of a sudden the atmosphere seems to change. Becomes thicker, heavier. Charged with something he doesn’t dare want to identify. Bucky feels his heart give a heavy thump in his chest, a tingle begin deep inside of him, feels that treacherous change which makes him take a deep breath and once more reach for the door handle and he opens it, allowing the sounds of outside to crowd in. He looks at her over his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow, Jess,” he tells her and all but scrambles out slamming the door firmly shut behind him. He dashes into his apartment building, vanishing behind the door. He pauses once he’s behind it and he shuts his eyes and forces himself to breathe as he feels the first fluttering of encroaching anxiety.

He doesn’t know what his deal is today. Jess has kissed him many times before in the past and yes it’s made his heart leap at the contact but it’s never made him panic before. He opens his eyes and gives his head a little shake before heading to his mailbox and scooping up the day’s offerings. He heads up to his apartment, taking the stairs two at a time, ignoring the hard pump of his heartbeat in the process. Telling himself that he needs the distraction that the exercise will provide him instead of ruminating on his thoughts in the elevator.

* * *

 

He lets himself into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. Usually he enjoys the peace and quiet, embraces the solitude but he’s feeling restless right now. He craves company, more to the point the company of a specific person. He tries to tell himself that he’ll see her tomorrow but it doesn’t soothe him. It doesn’t even come close. He sighs disconsolately and heads into the kitchen, dumping his mail on the counter. His cupboards are full of food; decent in date food. Some of it is even healthy. He eyes the bowl of fruit resting beside his recently discarded mail. Jess insisted he buy some; apples, bananas, a couple of oranges, even some plums. He doesn’t mind fruit, in fact he’s rather partial to it but he has an annoying tendency of forgetting it’s there until it’s wrinkled, dried out and close to extinction. He heads over to it and picks up a bright red apple and rests it in the palm of his right hand and he all but glares at it for a moment. He also has beer in the fridge to go with the milk, butter and other similar dairy produce but she drew the line at scotch. He was all for arguing his case for having another bottle in the apartment until he looked into her eyes. He guesses she really did get a scare yesterday. God knows he did once he took the time to process it all. He rubs the apple against his chest and then takes a bite, feeling the sweetness explode over his tongue. He turns and heads back into the living room, chewing and swallowing it down.

He wanders over to his work space and sits down, switching on his computer, listening to it fire up. The desk is tidy again as are his book shelves. He glances at the notepad that occupies space by his right hand, a pen positioned just so beside it. He can see the indentation of Jess’s handwriting on the blank page and for a moment he just stares at it.

Steve was right about one thing. He is crazy about Jess. Has been since the moment he first saw her.

* * *

 

 " _Hey, are you Steve?”_

_He sets eyes on the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Average height, shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes. Pink and white skin. She’s wearing white shorts and a fire engine red t-shirt and she has curves in all the right places. She smiles somewhat hopefully at him, showing even white teeth._

_“Um…” His brain goes deliberately, annoyingly blank. He’s so dazzled by her that he all but forgot his name. Doesn’t see Steve until he feels the door being pulled out of his hand and he’s there beside him and he’s smiling brightly at her._

_“Jessamyn?”_

  _“Jess. Please call me Jess. No one calls me Jessamyn anymore. Hi!” The relief in her voice is evident as she holds out a hand and Bucky watches Steve take it, shaking it, turning on the Rogers charm._

_“Steve. You’re right on time. Come on in.”_

_Bucky watches Jess look his way._

_“Hi, I’m James…Barnes…umm…Bucky…” he stutters and he takes a step back, feeling his cheeks warm with a flush. Fuck, when was the last time a girl made him trip over his words and blush like that? When he was about nine, he thinks. He watches Steve escort Jess into their apartment, leaving him to close the front door which he does with a shake of his head._

_They’re looking for a roommate, someone to split the bills of their three bedroom off campus apartment with, having had to evict the previous roomie for stealing. The final straw being sixty dollars going missing from Bucky’s wallet and the normally broke Eddie all of a sudden feeling a little flush with the bills in his possession. Bucky isn’t stupid, they’d both had their suspicions about the guy so he marked the bills and caught the idiot red handed. It got hairy for a little while, almost confrontational but Eddie quickly realised that two against one was not good odds for his health and left._

_Jess worked at Joe’s, a diner not all that far from the apartment and she needed somewhere reasonably cheap to live. She was taking her first steps towards independence and wanted to save some money along the way, maybe to go towards a place of her own somewhere in the future. Bucky didn’t really pay attention to the entire story, he was too busy looking at her with stars in his eyes._

_She told them that she had no issue sharing with two guys, even provided them with references, wanting to make the best impression as possible and that endeared her to them both even more. It wasn’t anything special where they lived; it was small, maybe even a little bit cramped and the furnace broke down more often than not so hot water was intermittent. There were times where it was colder in their apartment than outside in the depths of winter, both boys were adept at layering up their clothing during a particularly cold snap. Jess was sweet, funny and kind as well as honest and they offered her the tiny little third bedroom on the spot. They helped her to move in a few days later and so their friendship began._

It’s only ever been a friendship for Bucky because the day she moved in a third guy helped out also. His name was Tony Stark, a quantum physics genius that Steve knew slightly on campus and he was also Jess’s boyfriend. Not quite as tall as Steve and Bucky with dark brown almost black hair and quick dark eyes. He possessed a ruthlessly dry wit as well as a razor sharp mind and Bucky decided there and then that he didn’t much like him. Probably because Jess was his girl, he didn’t care to analyse it but he just knew that he didn’t like him. It was like that fucking Alanis Morrisette song, the one about meeting the man of her dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife but in his case, he met the girl of his dreams and then her genius science nerd boyfriend.  Ironic. Yeah that was it. In every sense of the word. So he settled for being her friend instead.

They ended up getting close, best friends even and no matter how strong the attraction became for him, he was always careful not to cross that line with her. She was an easy girl to talk to, to share life experiences with. She never judged him, was always ready with advice if he needed or asked for it. She was patient and never took any of his bullshit. She worked long hours at her job at the diner and during the winter months when it got dark early, either he or Steve were always on hand to walk to her to and from work when Tony couldn’t, which was often if he were to be honest but he didn’t mind. She brought home leftovers for dinner, on her days off she cooked them breakfasts of bacon, eggs, mushrooms, called it a Full English, something her grandmother had taught her, her grandmother being British, emigrating to the US as a War Bride just after the Second World War ended. He remembers those times especially, the three of them talking and laughing over breakfast with coffee or tea. During his time as a prisoner of war, he clung to those memories in the darkest of times, made himself remember her smile and clung to the hope that he’d see it again.

Bucky huffs out a sigh, banishing thoughts of his past from his mind. It’s no good mooning over those days, they’re ancient history, golden nostalgic memories that still have the ability to make him smile and that’s where they’re going to stay. He takes another bite of his apple and logs onto his network. Frowns at the amount of emails lurking in his in box and ignores them, pulling up his latest chapter instead. Gets to work on it.

Or at least that’s his intention.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Olivia Stark. The name of the school is made up. Any errors are unintentional.   
> Flashback is in italics.

**Six:**

Jess is parked outside the school gates right on time and it isn’t long before she sees her only child emerge from the school grounds in the middle of a large group of her classmates holding court, smiling and laughing.

Olivia Stark is eight going on eighteen at times. She’s so much like her father at times that it’s scary and not only to look at but in personality as well as in smarts. Olivia Stark is off the charts smart. Jess emerges from the car’s interior but stands just inside the door and she waits for Olivia to see her, which she does. Her daughter waves and she waves back.

She’s a beautiful girl; tall for her age, lean, long limbed with almost waist length dark brown hair currently held away from her face by a thin green Alice band. She’s clad in the uniform of the prestigious St Mary’s School for girls, one of the best private schools in the Tri-State Area; navy and green tartan kilt, navy blue knee socks, white shirt and navy sweater with the school’s crest on the front.  The fees are astronomical, the waiting list long and prestigious and the places few and highly sought after. They’d been only too happy to accept the daughter of Tony Stark and it’s just as well he’s paying for her education because there’s no way she can afford somewhere as fancy as this. Olivia is blossoming here, her keen mind nurtured and her talents encouraged. Early reports suggest she’ll follow in her father’s footsteps where science and mathematics are concerned, consistently scoring top marks in all of those subjects and she won’t be nine for another three months.

“Hey mom,” Olivia greets once she’s close enough.

“Hey honey. Good day?” she enquires.

Olivia fairly beams at her. “Yeah. How’s Uncle James?”

It always takes Jess a second to engage her brain when Olivia is talking about her godfather. Everyone calls him Bucky but Olivia calls him by his given name. In fact she’s the only person he allows to since she proclaimed at an early age that as James is his actual name, it would make sense for her to call him by that and he’s given her no reason why she shouldn’t, so Uncle James it is.

“He’s a lot better today. He said to say hi to the Munchkin. I’m assuming he means you,” she replies with a smile, watching her daughter climb into the back seat of her car and buckle herself in. She gets back into the driver’s seat and looks at her through the rear view mirror. “That _is_ you, right?” she continues and hears Olivia’s quiet giggle and her nod of her head.

“I haven’t seen him for a little while. Dad said he was sick, probably had too much to drink again.”

Jess barely refrains from rolling her eyes. Tony is too honest with their daughter sometimes. She’ll have to have a word with him about that. To remind him that once in a little while it’s okay to sugar coat. Especially when the person he’s being honest with is only eight years old.

“Well, you know, he went through a lot when you were a baby. We’ve talked about it, remember? He finds life difficult to cope with sometimes and that’s how he copes. Whether we think it’s wrong or right is irrelevant,” she reminds her and watches the smile fade a little as she does remember.

“But he’s doing good today. In fact he’s asked me if I was interested in working for him and I finally agreed.”

“ _Finally_!” Olivia exclaims and it’s Jess’s turn to laugh. She starts the engine and after a moment pulls into mid-afternoon traffic.

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s the best idea. You look after him anyway so he should at least pay you for it,” Olivia replies and Jess does roll her eyes this time. Her kid is perceptive.

“That’s pretty much what he said but I’ve told him that you come first, that if you need me for anything then I will drop everything to make sure that you’re okay. It might mean you spending more time with your dad and Pepper in the long run but we’ll talk about it as and when it happens.”

“Sure. I don’t mind spending time with dad when he’s not too busy and Pepper’s cool,” Olivia replies.

In the middle of his quest for world domination, Jess tells herself.

“Well right now it’s just a trial run, it may not work out. You’re my number one priority.”

“It’ll work out mom, Uncle James adores you and you adore him too. You’re best friends. How can it _not_ work out?” Olivia informs her and Jess ignores the flutter in her heart at her daughter’s proclamation. He adores her? Well if she has to be honest, she does adore him but she’s never gone right out and told him so. The years she thought he was dead were some of the worst she’s ever gone through and receiving the news that he was in fact alive was as close to a miracle as she thought she would get.

* * *

 

_“Right this way Mrs Stark.”_

_She follows the smartly dressed soldier along the sterile white corridor, past equally bright white rooms, some occupied and some empty. Her heart is pounding almost right out of her chest, her eyes taking in her surroundings, her head constantly turning as they walk past each room, searching for him but not finding him. She’s beginning to think that she’s reliving one of her nightmares, the one where she’s endlessly searching for him but she never finds him._

_She still remembers opening the door to two army personnel, so smart in their uniforms. They introduced themselves as his Commanding Officer and the Chaplain. The names going over her head, fearful at why they're here, fear ice cold in the pit of her stomach, bracing herself for the news that Bucky’s body has finally been located. He’s been listed as missing for the past three years, the vehicle he was travelling in caught in an ambush, no sign of survivors. No sign of Bucky. Presumed killed, his body never recovered. She almost tells them to go away,  she's not ready to hear the confirmation that his body has been finally located, that he’s dead, but they're here now and she braces herself to receive their news._

_She invites them in and sits alone in the house and she thinks who she could call to sit with her but there’s no one. Everyone is at work; Tony is at the office, where he always seems to be, Natasha is working overseas and Steve is in the city, wheeling and dealing in his own corner of the universe. Maybe she should call him, ask him to come over anyway; he would if it concerns Bucky. It doesn’t occur to her that she should call her husband._

_She doesn’t. She sits and waits, her heart just about ready to pound out of her chest, fear a tight ball in the pit of her stomach._

_She remembers being informed that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was located, alive, in a Taliban controlled village following a tip off from local villagers. He’s severely undernourished, badly injured but alive. As his official next of kin, she’s to be flown to a military hospital in Germany where he’s being treated for his injuries. They tell her that he has bullet wounds that have become infected. Surgery is required to save his life and then after that they aren’t completely sure he’ll get through it. Jess stares dry eyed at Olivia while they tell her all of this, she’s all of three and a half years old playing with her dolls at her mother’s feet and all she can think of is that Olivia’s godfather is battling for his life, that Bucky, her Bucky is alive. Once they left, she called Steve and gave him the news. Listened to his incredulity deteriorate into emotion, hearing him cry softly in disbelief on the other end of the line but she can’t bring herself to do the same. Not just yet._

_The soldier pauses at the end of what she’s beginning to think is a never ending corridor. She turns her head to the left and sees that the room is occupied. She stares at him through the doorway and her eyes slowly widen. The doctors have told her to prepare for a shock._

_He’s thin, almost skeletal. His cheekbones are sharply defined, skin stretching thinly over them. His eyes are shadowed and sunken into their sockets. His hair is long, matted, past his shoulders and he has a thick beard that shrouds half of his face. She glances at the soldier beside her for a moment before taking a slow deep breath and she enters the room that holds her friend. She feels the dam inside of her creak ominously but she shores herself up. Now is not the time to fall apart._

_His eyes are shut. He’s still under sedation courtesy of heavy duty painkillers and more than likely will be for another twenty four hours. The skin on his face is bruised and battered, his left eye purple and swollen; parched looking split dry lips. He’s attached to machinery that’s monitoring his heart rate, his pulse and his blood pressure and an IV drip has been inserted into the back of his right hand, feeding saline and antibiotics into his emaciated body. There’s a tube beneath his nose feeding him extra oxygen._

_His left arm is gone, she can see the thick white bandages that are wrapped around his upper body from his shoulders down to his waist. The army surgeons had to amputate to save his life after gangrene set in from those infected bullet wounds. He’ll need further surgery on what’s left of that left arm, the doctors have explained that the remaining flesh is still badly infected and that the infection is fighting against the antibiotics. They suspect that the infection has also gone into the shoulder socket. They’d performed the initial surgery in an attempt to save his life but he’s too weak right now to go any further. He’s wearing a hospital gown of some description and she makes a mental note to buy him something more comfortable to wear. He used to sleep in sweatpants when it was cold, just his underwear when it wasn’t. He won’t be able to do that here._

_She goes to his right hand side and slowly sinks down onto the chair that’s already waiting for her. Her eyes take in the length of his body. He looks so frail, so narrow. He barely makes an impression on the mattress. Cautiously she reaches for his hand and slides her fingers around his, careful not to jar any of the tubes being held in place feeling warm skin against her own and she looks at his face. He’s barely recognisable as the handsome easy going Bucky she’s familiar with. She sees his eyes begin to roll beneath the bruised lids and his hand twitches around hers._

_Her heart gives a jump._

_“Bucky,” she whispers, barely audible in the room. He seems to frown, slowly, ponderously. “It’s Jess, Bucky. I’m here. You’re safe now.”_

_His head slowly moves in the direction of her voice and the air catches in the back of her throat as he laboriously opens an eye. It takes a little bit of time but she gently squeezes his hand when it finally does open and fixes on hers._

_“J…” His voice is weak, dry as dust. He pauses, tries to swallow.  “Jess…Jess…mine…” he tries again. She feels tears fill her eyes at his nickname for her. Feels the dam begin to crack and strain._

_“Hey you,” she whispers back, feeling those tears finally spill over, hot against cool skin._

_“Dr…dr…dreamin’…” His voice is thick, unwieldy. She sees his tongue peek out to wet dry lips._

_“No, you’re not dreaming Bucky, you’re in a hospital in Germany. You were rescued by American forces and flown out here. You’re free, safe…it’s over.”_

_His frown deepens as he tries to absorb this piece of information. She leans forward, coming out of her seat and with her other hand she places the palm against his cheek, against the bruised skin, careful to keep the contact gentle and she sees his good eye go wide and tears fill._

_“F…free…” he gasps and around her various machines hiccup and bleep worriedly. Jess removes her hand as medical personnel flood into the room, checking over him as well as the machinery. They give her a warning look as she sits back down. The message is clear. She can’t let him get too emotional, his health is still on the precarious side. She looks back at him. He’s watching her, as if he’s still not quite able to believe his eyes._

_“Go back to sleep. I’m not gonna leave you, I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” she tells him in a low voice and she sees his eye begin to grow heavy again as he slips back into sleep._

_She takes a deep breath and wipes at her face, shoring up her defences once more._

* * *

 

They arrive home a short while later. Home is a large property out in the suburbs with several bedrooms and and bathrooms, a large yard and excellent security. Part of the divorce settlement from Tony was this house. He selected several property details, sending them to her to look at and for to choose one of them for herself and Olivia. She should be annoyed at his sense of propriety but she understands that he wants his daughter to live in a safe environment. Their marriage may not have survived but she can’t and won’t fault his commitment to his only child. Olivia has the best that money can buy and he provides it all willingly. He dotes on her, Jess knows that he remembers how hard his own father was on him and he’s determined not to be the same to his child and he’s kept his promise. He loves being Olivia’s father, loves spending time with her when work allows and they have a close relationship as a result.

She watches the garage door glide open and drives in. As the door closes behind them, she looks back at her daughter again.

“You have any homework?”

“English; spellings mostly as well as a book report,” Olivia responds, gathering her back pack onto her lap.

“Then I need you to get right onto that before dinner. You need me to coach you on the spellings?”

Olivia shakes her head as Jess expects her to. “I know them,” she replies confidently and Jess bites back a smile. She _will_ know them.

“Okay but it’s also okay to ask if you need extra coaching.”

“You could invite Uncle James over for dinner and he could coach me,” she replies as she climbs out of the rear seat. Jess follows suit, closing and locking the door.

“Nice try munchkin but Uncle James has a deadline.”

“It’s been ages since he was last over for dinner, I miss him,” she sighs as she follows her mother into the house.

“I’ll mention that to him. Maybe we could go out for pizza one night if he’s available,” Jess suggests, watching as Olivia hangs up her backpack. Her daughter grins at her which makes her eyes sparkle.

“That would be great. Pizza is best with Uncle J.”

Jess chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that declaration,” she tells her.

That and the fact that he’s now ‘Uncle J’’

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is not having a good day. As always, all errors in this chapter are unintentional. Flashbacks are in italics.

**Seven:**

He can’t sleep even though he’s exhausted.

He’s tried. He’s kept the caffeine intake to a bare minimum, made sure to eat, even if it was the last of the tuna pasta casserole Jess brought over the day before. He even had intentions of writing more than a paragraph but the moment he looked at his latest chapter, those good intentions disappeared like smoke on the breeze. So he tried to sleep instead, even going so far as stripping off and climbing into bed but the moment he settled into the silence, his pain in the ass brain woke up.

He has no idea what the time is as he heads into the gym but he knows that it’s late.

There are a few people here, even at this hour. He glances at them as he goes into the large communal room filled with a variety of machines and apparatus. It’s familiar to him, nothing changes here except maybe the faces.

He goes through some basic warming up exercises, stretching muscles in preparation for the hard work to follow. He needs the release, to work out this restless energy that’s taken up residence inside of him. It’s worked in the past when he’s felt this wound up and over tired and it was recommended as a outlet to help him wind down. Exercise himself into exhaustion so he can crawl into his bed and finally sleep. It works and sometimes sex does too. He’s picked up more than one woman from here in the past but tonight female company holds no interest for him.

He visits Marty’s gym when he needs to; whether to work through episodes of insomnia, mood swings and nightmares or when self-destructive thoughts and behaviours threaten to take over his peace of mind in general. It doesn’t always work though and sometimes alcohol is a better, quicker solution for him.

The gym is situated within walking distance of his apartment and no one bothers him here, no one double takes at the sight of his left arm, no one hassles him for information about his time in Iraq. He likes to fool himself that maybe no one hassles him because no one actually recognises him but he’s not that naïve. When the story of his rescue and subsequent repatriation broke, it was wall to wall stuff. He was on every news channel, the front cover of every newspaper and magazine for months afterwards. And then the books and their success happened. Everyone knows who James Barnes is these days.  

Marty’s reminds him of the gym his dad used to go to when he was home on leave. George Barnes with his sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Bucky always used to wonder why he visited the gym so often. Now he knows why.

He lifts weights, works the presses; chest and shoulders, legs and then he runs on the treadmill until his shorts and t-shirt cling damply to his skin, his leg muscles scream for mercy and the air scorches his lungs.

Afterwards he heads back home. Still unable to sleep, still unable to keep thoughts of Jess from his mind.

He contemplates calling into a bodega, buying a bottle of something stronger to help the journey into sleep but he remembers Jess’s anger and discards the notion, even though he craves a slug of that something. He made her a promise to cut back and he’s going to try and keep it this time. He keeps his head down instead as he heads back home, keeping to the shadows, wary of any signs of recognition, even at this hour. It wouldn’t be the first time he was photographed on the streets by a brave paparazzo but thankfully tonight is quiet if you ignore the insistent and intrusive howl of police and paramedic sirens alike.

* * *

 

_Déjà vu. The definition of ‘already seen’_

Jess lets herself into his apartment and is greeted by silence. As she closes the door behind her, she checks her watch and sees that it’s not quite nine. Bucky tends to think that any time before ten a.m. to be the middle of the night so perhaps he’s sleeping.

But all the same, she can’t ignore that shiver of apprehension that races down her spine.

She thinks back to a couple of days before when she found him face down on the floor slowly suffocating on his own vomit and she feels her heart rate accelerate at the memory and she heads into the living area, eyes automatically seeking his work station but he’s not there.

When he has the urge to write he tends to lose all sense of time, wrapping himself up completely in the storyline unfolding inside of his head but there’s no one at the desk, the monitor is black. It doesn’t look like he’s been near it for a while. The surface of the desk is tidy or at least tidy by his standards. There’s a half-eaten apple beside the keyboard and an abandoned mug beside it. Slowly she approaches it and looks inside and sees coffee in there. She touches the side of the mug. It’s stone cold. The apple looks like it’s been there a little while too judging by the browned flesh. She recognises his battered gym bag that’s been discarded beside his desk. It hadn’t been there the day before. The tight feeling in the centre of her chest begins to subside at the thought that perhaps he’s visited the gym rather than got black-out drunk again. She hopes so anyway.

She looks over her shoulder at the room but it’s tidy, it hasn’t been trashed this time. She drops her bag on the chair and shrugs off her jacket, draping it over the back and heads to his bedroom.

* * *

 

He’s sitting on the side of his bed, head down and staring at the floor. He’s clad in an old t-shirt and sweatpants and his feet are bare. The bed sheets are twisted and pushed down to the bottom of the mattress, the pillows in the centre. It looks like there’s been quite the tussle in here and for a moment she wonders whether he has company. Her eyes quickly take in the rest of the room but there’s no sign that a woman has been here. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s walked in on him with a woman in the apartment.

“Bucky?” She keeps her voice soft and after a moment he looks up and in her direction. His hair is tangled and in his eyes and her eyes widen when she sees the exhaustion that’s resident in them.

“Hey…what’s up?” she breathes, going to him and sitting on the mattress beside him. He looks at her and she sees unshed tears brighten his eyes, sees how his upper body trembles.

“I’ll be okay,” he mumbles, wiping at his face, looking away. “Just havin’ a bad moment, that’s all.”

“What’s wrong?” Jess persists and she waits. He’ll either confide in her or ignore her and she can’t confidently predict which way he’ll go. Silence stretches between them and she begins to think that he’s going to ignore her. “How about I go and make us some coffee, or some tea if you’d rather? It’s a nice morning out there, we could go for a walk, clear the cobwebs?” She tries to pretend that his rebuff doesn’t sting and goes to stand up.

“I haven’t been able to…sleep,” he whispers back, his voice tight.

Jess pauses, a little taken aback by his admission.

“Not at all?” She sits back down again.

He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself, the metal prosthesis making a quick high pitched whirring sound.

“I tried… I even went to the gym rather than drink, and I felt tired enough when I got back here…and I think I did sleep for a little bit but I kept having…bad dreams…kept waking me up. I’m so tired Jess… I’m so damned tired.”

Jess shuffles closer to him. She has a feeling he’s not talking about sleep deprivation right now.

“Remember what we used to do in the clinic, when you couldn’t sleep?” She sees how he does and his eyes grow round with the memory. She slides an arm across his shoulders and slowly she draws him closer until their heads are touching. She can feel him tremble against her and she tightens her hold on him just a little bit.

“We’re gonna make a little nest in here; blankets, pillows, draw the curtains, keep everything quiet and low. I’ve been awake since five thirty so I could probably use a nap too. Anything else can wait. You think you could do that?”

“God…I don’t know…I guess…”

Jess slowly smiles at him.

“Let’s at least try. We’ll give it thirty minutes and if it doesn’t work then we can try to think of something else, maybe go on that walk or something.”

“It’s been happenin’ far too much recently.”

“And is it why you trashed your work space and drank yourself into oblivion the other day? You think passing out drunk is the answer?”

He looks at her. “When you can’t sleep, you’ll try anythin’,” he tells her. She sighs, removing her arm.

“I suppose you will. Come on, into bed.” She gets to her feet and turns, drawing the bed linen back up the bed. He stays still for a moment and she sees how he frowns.

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea,” he begins.

“You won’t know til you try and I know what you’re like when you’re tired. You give Olivia a run for her money on the cranky scale. Incidentally she says to tell you that she misses you and wants you to come over for dinner one night. She said that pizza is best with Uncle J.’”

“Uncle J? That’s a new one,” he murmurs.

“What can I say, she’s almost nine. God can you believe it, my baby will be nine in a matter of weeks?”

“She was just a baby when I was deployed. When I got back she was a walking talking mini version of you.”

Jess smiles. “You’re the only one who says that, everyone else thinks she’s her father’s incarnation.”

“She may look like him and she may be off the charts smart like him but in every other way, she’s you,” Bucky responds with the confidence of someone who knows. She looks his way to see him watching her steadily. She shrugs, feeling somewhat shy all of a sudden.

“I don’t know whether she’d appreciate the comparison,”

“It’s the truth though. I miss the munchkin too, maybe we could do the pizza thing sometime this week? Before Steve’s wedding?”

“She’d like that.”

“And you too, I hope?” he enquires and it startles her a little.

“Always,” she tells him with a soft smile and is rewarded by one in return.

“C’mon, let’s see if you can sleep. I could talk about grocery shopping, bore you to sleep?” she suggests and hears his quiet groan as he slowly gets to his feet and turns to face the mattress. The frown begins to return.

“That might actually work…what the hell…” He gives his head a shake and climbs into bed, pulling both pillows back to the top of the bed, arranging them somewhat neatly side by side. He watches Jess move around to the other side, closing the drapes, making sure the room is in shadow and she then sits down on the side of the bed and pulls off her shoes. She swivels around so that she’s side by side with him. They lie down and she rolls onto her side to face him. He follows suit, resting his head against his upturned arm and he watches her.

“Why were you awake at five thirty?” he asks.

“Too much on my mind. Things for today. Things I have to do with Olivia. She has a final fitting for her bridesmaid’s dress tonight at the bridal salon with Peggy and her entourage and then she’s got a movie and burgers date with her dad.”

Bucky lifts an eyebrow. “Really? On a school night?”

“Yeah on a school night. He’ll have her home before midnight, don’t worry,” she teases and sees his smile come and go.

“Will you tell me what your nightmares were about?” she asks, her voice low, non-demanding. She sees any residual humour bleed away.

“No.”

“It could help. Sharing it with me means it’s not churning around inside of your head. It won’t hold that power over you anymore.”

“God, what talk show did you pick that gem from?” he retorts and Jess recognises the flippancy behind it. Deflection. He’s used it before.

“Not a talk show. I might have read it somewhere though.”

He flashes a smile at her, his teeth white against his dark beard.

“It doesn’t mean it’s any less true. I mean you could even write it down. Open a file on your computer, password protect it and when you have a nightmare, write it down and then lock it away and that way it’s out of your head.”

“If I write it down it makes it real and I might not be able to stop,” he murmurs, his smile fading away, his eyes becoming so sad that she reaches across and rests her palm against his cheek. His eyes fix on hers.

“You can try,” she whispers. He stares at her and his eyes seem to gleam once more. His left hand comes up to capture the one pressed against his face and he lifts it away. He presses a single kiss in its palm and she feels the warmth of his mouth against her skin, the soft brush of his beard right to her centre. It makes her heart leap in her chest. He presses her hand against his chest and the smile that he gifts her is drenched with sadness.

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling her towards him and she goes willingly. He tucks her into his arms, her head beneath his chin. She wraps her right arm around his waist and through the thin fabric of his t-shirt she can feel the ridged raised edges of the scars on his back. She curls her hand into a fist.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind if you touch them,” Bucky murmurs and she feels him press a kiss against the top of her head. Slowly she uncurls her hand and lays it flat. She gently rubs her cheek against the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his flesh through it. It smells of him. His brand of deodorant, fresh cotton, the scent of his skin that she knows almost as well as her own and the faint odour of soap powder too. It all combines to remind her of him.

* * *

 

_She knows she’s attracting attention as she strides into the Stark Building with Olivia resting on her hip._

_“Mrs Stark…”_

_She flicks a look at the man who materialises on her right hand side. The immaculate grey suit, the name badge announcing to her that his name is Vincent and that he’s head of security. “We weren’t expecting you today Mrs Stark,” he continues, walking briskly beside her._

_“Because it’s an unscheduled visit…" she quickly reads his name tag, "Vincent. I need to see my husband, do you know if he’s available?”_

_“Umm… I’m sure I can check for you. Would you like to wait while we find out? Would you like something to drink, for yourself and Miss Stark?” he enquires, his gaze flicking briefly at the child who is staring around with wide dark brown eyes._

_“Daddy’s office!” she then announces almost triumphantly and it seems to momentarily startle Jess out of the mindset she’s currently in. She slows her pace slightly, heading towards the bank of elevators that will take them both to Tony’s office._

_“Yeah, we’re going to see daddy,” Jess murmurs and then looks at Vincent again. “What I’m going to do is speak with my husband. Could you please inform his secretary that I’m on my way up and that it’s a matter of urgency that I speak to him.” Her eyes go a little hard at this, as if daring security to stop her. She presses a button and waits for the elevator doors to open. Tony has assured her that she has clearance to go up to his office whenever she needs to and she isn’t joking about the urgency._

_“Right away Mrs Stark,” Vincent agrees and the doors open. Jess and Olivia go inside and watches him disappear before the doors slide shut._

_Word travels fast in this building because his secretary is waiting for her as the elevator doors slide open. Jess regards her. A new one. She doesn’t know her name. There seems to be a different one each time she visits._

_“Mrs Stark…is there a problem?” the woman asks as Jess lowers Olivia to the floor and allows her to walk out in front of her._

_“There will be if my husband isn’t available to speak to me right this moment,” Jess answers, taking Olivia’s hand. To her credit, the little girl doesn’t complain._

_“He’s in a meeting with no idea of how long it’ll last. He’s asked me to…”_

_“To what?” Jess demands, pausing in the reception area. The secretary stumbles to a stop also and stares at her with wide, surprised eyes. “Placate me? Get rid of me? I’m sorry but if he’s not out of that meeting in five minutes I’m going in. I don’t care who he’s in that meeting with. I need to talk to him now.”_

_“But Mrs Stark, you must understand…”_

_“Who are you incidentally? I don’t know who you are. What the hell happened to his last secretary? She wouldn’t be putting up any and all kinds of barriers like you’re currently trying to do. She would drag him out of whatever meeting he was ensconced in because she knew that if I turned up here unannounced then it was for a damned good reason!” Jess snaps impatiently._

_“Jess?”_

_She turns when she hears Tony’s voice, sees him emerging from the conference room. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?” he enquires softly._

_“Daddy!” Olivia announces joyfully and lets go of her mother’s hand and runs towards her father. He smiles and scoops her up into his arms and grins as she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him._

_“Hey princess. Susie…” He slowly lowers his daughter to the floor and turns his attention to his secretary who Jess now knows is called Susie. “Could you take my daughter to your desk, keep an eye on her for a little while so her mom and I can talk in my office. Hold all calls until I say otherwise.”_

_“Of course Mr Stark,” Susie answers with a nod of her head and she holds out a hand. Olivia looks at Jess first and only goes with the secretary when she nods. Both of them watch them walk away and disappear._

_“Now what the hell has got you storming into my building and scaring the living crap out of Vincent and the rest of my security team as well as insulting my secretary in the bargain?” Tony enquires. Jess looks at him. She takes a deep breath and feels her throat tighten, tears burn the backs of her eyes._

_“Bucky’s alive, Tony.”_

_She sees the absolute shock that crosses his face._

_“What? Are you sure?”_

_“His commanding officer and a chaplain came to the house to see me this morning and confirmed. He’s in a hospital in Germany.”_

_Tony sighs and then takes her arm and leads her into his office. He closes the door behind them, effectively cutting them off from the outside world._

_His office is huge, floor to wall windows to two sides flooding it with light and offering perfect views of the city._

_“Is he okay?” he enquires softly and watches her eyes fill up with tears._

_“No he’s not. They’re not sure whether he’s going to survive his injuries. I’m flying out tonight to be with him.”_

_Tony gives a little shake of his head at this piece of information, “I’m sorry but you’re what?”_

_Jess’s eyes widen, her expression beseeching._ _“I’m his next of kin Tony, I have to.”_

_Tony takes a slow deliberate step backwards._

_“What about Olivia? What about me?”_

_Jess stares at him as he turns and walks away from her,  going to stand behind his desk. “What about you?” she replies, puzzled and she sees the angry gleam in her husband’s eyes._

_“What if I don’t want you to go?”_

_“It’s not up to you. As far as I’m aware, while we may be married, nowhere on the marriage certificate does it say that you own me or have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do. You know that Bucky is my best friend. He’s injured. He needs me.”_

_“Why can’t Steve go instead? He’s his best friend too.”_

_“Because I’m his next of kin, that’s why and Steve can’t drop everything and fly to Germany, he’s right in the middle of getting his company off the ground.”_

_“You’ve spoken to him?”_

_Jess ignores the hurt tone in his voice._

_“I have. He’s at a critical stage of launching Galaxy Publishing and can’t get away otherwise he would be coming with me.”_

_Tony sighs roughly._

_“So you’re just gonna go. Just like that? It doesn’t matter what I say or think?”_

_“It’s not as though you and Bucky are friends Tony. I’m all he has. He needs me right now, more than you do. I can’t believe you’re questioning me about this.”_

_“What if I don’t want you to go?” he repeats and Jess rolls her eyes._

_“I’ll still fly out anyway. I don’t need your permission.”_

_“You’re my wife!”_

_Jess widens his eyes. “Are you sure because I can’t remember the last time you took any notice. Are you positive?” she retorts archly, her tone rising in defence and Tony glares back at her._

_“So that’s it?”_

_Jess stares at him, aware of a change in the atmosphere, a subtle shift of something._

_“Yeah Tony, that’s it. My flight leaves tonight. You can take the time off work, spend some time with your daughter because I can’t take me with her, not to the hospital. It’ll be great for you both.”_

_“And what if I can't? What if I said that if you walk out of this office right now that it’s over between you and me. We’ll be done. I’ll file for divorce. Over.” His tone is uptight, confrontational. Angry. Jess goes very still._

_“You’d do that?” she whispers._

_“I might. If I’m pushed.”_

_She lets out a ragged sigh, slowly shaking her head._

_“If you’re pushed? How many times have I had to rearrange schedules, dinners and family events because you’ve been held up with work, had to fly out to, oh I don’t know, Paris, for an all important work meeting at the last minute? You’ll have to remind me because I’ve lost count.” Jess demands, her voice brittle yet hard and she’s fighting against tears that are suddenly perilously close to the surface. Damn it, her heart can’t take much more of this.  She clenches her fists instead as she inhales._

_“You’re really going to go there, make me choose between you and Bucky?”_

_“If I have to.”_

_“Damn it Tony, I can’t believe you’d stoop that low. I’ve always supported you, I’ve always had your back and I’ve never made any kind of demands on you or your time and this is how you repay me? You know what…do your worst. You call our relationship a marriage? I’ve often wondered why we’ve stayed together.”_

_“I’ve often wondered the same thing myself!” Tony retaliates. Jess slowly lifts her chin as she continues to stare at him._

_“I’ll remind you. Her name is Olivia and you know what, let’s be real honest here. For the past three years things haven’t been the best between us. You’re a workaholic. Olivia and I are a distant second and third on your list of priorities and I think it’s now come to a point that I don’t think I want that anymore. We’re not making each other happy. Quite the opposite in fact. You want out Tony?”_

_She waits and for a moment he doesn’t answer and the atmosphere stretches between them, becoming strained._

_“Yeah Jess, I want out. You locked yourself away from me when you thought Bucky was dead. You weren’t interested in me anymore.”_

_Jess feels her heart contract and she swallows, her vision blurring. Then she sighs raggedly._

_“It was called grief Tony. You were never there. I guess you were too busy building your empire and now that it’s established, you want more and more and I suppose a wife and child just gets in the way of you achieving that. In that respect I guess we’re both to blame.” She takes another deep breath and huffs it out_

_“Fine.” She pulls her wedding rings off her fingers and walks to his desk and places them on the blotter in front of him. She looks at him once more. His eyes are slightly wide in disbelief._

_“What? Did you think I’d back down? You should know me by now. I never back down from a challenge.” She straightens up, takes another deep, strengthening breath._

_“You'll need to organise Olivia’s care for the next couple of weeks at least. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in Germany for. We can talk legal stuff when I get back and find an attorney. Don’t be late back tonight, my flight leaves at ten.”_

_She collects Olivia from Susie and leaves, spine straight, staring straight ahead but her heart is thudding in her chest, her throat tight and her mouth dry but her mind is made up._

* * *

 

_Bucky is Stateside again and staying in a state of the art rehabilitation clinic. All around him are the wounded; with limbs broken or missing, bodies scarred and broken down. There are veterans here, servicemen and women hoping to be able to serve their country once more as well as those attempting to rebuild their lives after receiving life-changing injuries. Jess knows that Bucky doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be counted as one of them._

_She remembers the raft of press that were at the air base when the plane bringing him home touched down. She remembers the flashes of the cameras exploding in the dusk sky, illuminating everything and everyone as far as the eyes could see. She and Bucky were captured on the front of almost every newspaper the following day as she pushed his wheelchair down the ramp onto the tarmac. Every single image showed him almost wild eyed with confusion, still dazed from the super strength painkillers he was still on after another of the surgeries he had to endure in Germany before doctors were willing to let him be flown back home. Overlong hair that was barely combed into submission, that heavy beard and that missing left arm, they were all splashed across every news publication, every news bulletin and every news website in the country. Jess remembers his tension, how his right arm gripped the blanket that covered his legs and feet from view. They were wrapped in bandages; his captors had burned and flayed his legs and the soles of his feet until they were bloodied lumps of flesh. Bucky hadn’t said why but someone at the hospital informed her that it was to make sure that he didn’t try to escape which gave Jess the impression that he must’ve tried at least once. He wasn’t able to bear any weight on them at that moment and they would take a while to heal. She watched them change the dressings, saw for herself what his captors had done and she witnessed the pain etched on his face even though he barely said a word._

_Bucky doesn’t speak as Jess wheels him along the corridor to the room where he needs to be. He doesn’t say very much, he’s retreated behind a wall of silence, of dark brooding quiet, judging by the frown on his face right now. So she keeps conversation to a bare minimum; she knows that chatter for chatter’s sake annoys the shit out of him right now so she doesn’t. More than one orderly has been on the receiving end of his temper when they didn’t get the memo and as a result, the rest of the staff invariably tiptoe around him._

_She knows that he doesn’t sleep. She can tell by the dark shadows beneath his eyes, his blood shot eyes. His temper. His silences. The nurses have told her that when he does sleep, it’s only for short bursts and even then they’re interrupted by violent nightmares, his screams of terror echoing down the corridor. They have to sedate him when that happens which always leaves him groggy and out of sorts afterwards._

_She watches him as Jonny, his physio, puts him through his paces. He’s a big guy, taller than Bucky by at least three inches and he has to outweigh him by about fifty pounds, maybe more given his current build. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all Bucky. Jess keeps watch from the side lines as Jonny works him hard._

_He’s exhausted when Jess wheels him back to his room. He still hasn’t said all that much, to her or to anyone. He will speak when spoken to but very rarely has he initiated conversation._

_She watches as two orderlies help him back into bed. She watches how he closes his eyes, the exhaustion plain on his face, his jaw clenched tight. One of the orderlies moves to draw the blankets over his legs but pauses when Jess puts a hand on his and just shakes her head._

_“I’ll take over for now if that’s okay?” Sees how he sends Bucky a wary look before nodding and he follows his colleague out of the room._

_Jess carefully draws the blankets up to his chest and then moves around the room, closing the blinds, shutting off the view outside; a large courtyard with grass, trees and various flowers, all in full bloom at this time of the year. His room is enveloped in low light and she carefully closes the door to his room and closes the blinds that offer a view of the corridor and allows anyone to be able to look inside. She turns back to his bed and sees that his eyes are open and he’s watching her._

_“What are you doing?” His voice is low, dull and husky. He watches her approach him._

_“You need time to decompress,” she tells him, going around to his right hand side. He watches her as she climbs onto the bed beside him and she looks at him. “You’re overloaded and exhausted and you need to rest. While what they’re doing here is important, you need to get well mentally too and I can help a little with that. Come here.” She moves closer to him, sliding her left arm across the pillow above his head and she helps him roll onto his side so that he’s facing her. She then leans over and uses the spare pillows to create a support for his back. All the time he watches her._

_“You can tell?”_

_“With you, yes. Do you need any pain relief? I can ring for a doctor, it might help you to sleep.”_

_“I’m fine. They leave me feelin’ heavy headed when I wake up,” he murmurs. She shuffles closer and he rests his head against the hollow of her shoulder and with her left hand she begins to slowly stroke his hair._

_“Okay but if you change your mind, let me know. I want you to try and relax. I know it’s hard here with all the noise out there and the weird smells and stuff but if you can sleep for a little while, it’ll help you feel a little better and I’ll be here, I’m not going to leave you.”_

_“Who’s looking after the munchkin?” She looks down at him to see those blue grey eyes staring up at her._

_“She’s in pre-school and Tony will be collecting her afterwards for the time being.” It’s still boggling her mind that he’s making the time in his daily schedule to do that._

_“I thought he was world building or somethin’ like that? Doesn’t she have a nanny?”_

_“No, she doesn’t and he’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”_

_“I notice you’re not wearing your weddin’ ring…”_

_Jess sighs slowly, raggedly._

_“Yeah…well…” She closes her eyes and slowly swallows before she opens them and looks back at him. He’s still watching, assessing, waiting._

_“Our marriage has been in trouble for the last three or so years and it’s been getting worse. Tony asked for a divorce just before I left for Germany and I said…yes. It’s over, I think it’s been over for a little while.”_

_It hurts her to admit to her failure out in the open like this and to Bucky. He’s the first person she’s vocalised it to. She knows in her soul that it’s the right decision. They haven’t shared the same bed in months and it was for Olivia’s sake that they’ve come to this decision and while it’s a relief for Jess, it  still really fucking hurts._

_“I’m sorry Jess… God I’m sorry.”_

_She looks down at him and her smile is sad._

_“Thanks but it’s for the best. I’m here for you now, you don’t need to be hearing about my woes.” She begins to stroke his hair again. “Try to sleep,” she urges quietly._

* * *

 

“The last time we did this, you told me your marriage was over.”

Jess looks into Bucky’s eyes and she smiles softly.

“Yeah. I remember. I also remember that you fell asleep and slept for five straight hours.”

“Maybe there was a correlation,” he quips and grins and she chuckles softly.

“You never did tell me why you guys didn’t get along.”

“Some people just don’t.”

“That’s true. You need to close those eyes of yours Buck, even a couple of hours will be good for you.”

He sighs. “Easier said than done.”

She squeezes the hand that still holds hers, even if it is constructed from vibranium. The last thing Tony did for her as her husband was to create and design the arm Bucky now has. She asked him as a favour, as a challenge, a farewell gift almost and surprisingly, he agreed to the idea and he had a working prototype in the laboratory within six months.

“You have to try,” she gently chides and moves closer to him and she presses a kiss against his forehead.

She moves back, resting her head on her pillow and looks into his eyes again. He still hasn’t let go of her hand and he’s staring at her, eyes slightly wide. Her heart gives a bump and a sense of anticipation makes her tingle. Without stopping to wonder or to question why, she leans towards him again and this time she presses her mouth against his.

He freezes. For a moment he goes absolutely still. Jess goes to move back, the fear that she’s misinterpreted the mood making hot embarrassment flood through her. Bucky lets go of her hand and reaches for her, his hand sliding around the back of her head and he’s drawing her mouth back to his again.

His lips are gentle against her own and she feels the softness of his beard against her skin. Her heart gives a heavy thump in her breast as she moves closer to him, sliding her arm over his shoulder, pressing herself up against his body. His left arm slides down from the back of her head, down the length of her back and over the curve of her ass, pulling her in tighter and she gasps against his lips. Then all of a sudden he’s pulling away from her, pushing her back and he scrambles and stumbles out of bed. She watches how he bolts out of the room.

* * *

 

She finds him in the living room, seated on the sofa, his head in his hands. He looks up when he hears her come in.

“You need to go,” he tells her.

She pauses, her eyes going wide.

“Why?”

“Because I’m asking you to. Please, just leave.”

He’s agitated, pulling his fingers through his hair.

“And if I don’t want to?”

He looks up once more and he glares at her.

“You just have to.”

She wants to ask him what he’ll do if she refuses but there’s a look in his eye that’s new to her, that she’s never seen before. That’s warning her not to push and maybe this time she shouldn’t.

She takes a step back and raises her hands.

“Okay. I’ll go.” She pauses, can see her jacket and purse on his chair at his workstation and collects them. “It was a kiss Bucky, that’s all it was.”

“It shouldn’t have happened.” His voice is tight with emotion. He drops his head to stare at the floor.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll call by tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“You’re firing me? After everything you did to persuade me to work for you and you’re firing me over one kiss?” Her voice rises in disbelief but he doesn’t look at her.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so freaked out over this. I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”

More silence but she can see that he’s slowly beginning to unravel.  

“Fine.”

She stares at him for a little while longer and then she leaves.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of that kiss. Both are full of self-recrimination. In the meantime, there's a wedding happening soon...

**Eight:**

Bucky opens the door and sees Steve standing there and he sighs.

“I can guess who sent you,” he mutters and walks away, leaving the door open and Steve guesses that’s his invitation to come in. He does, quietly closing the door behind him.

“If you’re thinking Jess, then you’d be right,” Steve comments as he goes into the living room. He pulls up when he sees the open bottle of Johnnie Walker and a single glass on the coffee table.

“Damn it Bucky,” he sighs.

“You want one?” Bucky’s voice is sharply defensive and when Steve makes eye contact, he sees the defiance there too.

“Sure. I’ve finished work for today,” he replies, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and loosening his tie. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the sofa. He lowers himself down onto it and accepts the glass from Bucky who sits down beside him and pours himself a fresh measure.

“How many have you had?” he asks, taking a sip.

“What are you, my mother?”

Steve stares at the bottle and guesses from what looks like a freshly broken seal, about half of it. He just shakes his head instead.

“She did call me earlier and she did ask me to call on you, to see if you’re okay.”

“And as you can see, I’m fine,” Bucky retorts belligerently.

“No you’re not.”

He watches Bucky’s expression change, sees the fury that turns his eyes a stormy grey.

“I’m fucking _sick_ and tired of everyone telling me that I’m not okay when I am!”

“You’re drunk and the sun hasn’t even gone down yet. How many more times this month, huh?” Steve answers calmly.

“Nobody’s business.”

Steve sighs raggedly and he drains his scotch in one swallow, carefully placing the squat glass on the coffee table.

“And you’re in a mood and spoiling for a fight. I’m not gonna talk to you when you’re like this Buck,” he replies, starting to get to his feet. He turns and grabs his jacket.

“How did she sound?”

Steve pauses and looks down at him. He’s staring down into his glass, a frown on his face.  Bucky swallows down the contents and puts the glass onto the coffee table. He then looks up at him. “How did Jess sound when she called you?”

“She was upset. Worried about you. She wouldn’t tell me why, just asked me to call in on you.”

Steve waits.

Bucky sighs raggedly and looks away once more.

“We kissed.”

Steve blinks, gives his head a little shake.

“Excuse me, you did what?”

Bucky turns his head and he looks at him and that defiance is back.

“You heard me. We kissed. She kissed me…I kissed her back and I… I guess I panicked.”

“You _panicked_ …you, James Barnes, woman magnet, charmer of birds from trees, you panicked because _Jess_ kissed you?”

“It’s _Jess_ , damn it, of course I panicked. Because I liked it. I wanted more.” His expression turns bleak. “And I respect her far too much. I’m not good enough for her Steve, I never have been and I’m certainly not now.”

“Pardon me if I disagree with you there.” Steve’s reprimand is mild. “You’re plenty good enough for her. Do I need to remind you that you’ve been in love with her since you first met her way back then?”

“I’m not in love with her.”

“Yeah you are, otherwise you wouldn’t have panicked. You wouldn’t be three quarters drunk at five o’clock in the afternoon. You’ve had dalliances, you’ve had brief… _things_ …but Jess is different because you’re in love with her.”

Bucky sighs, briefly closing his eyes and instead he just slowly shrugs.

“I just know that I’m not good for her right now. I’m not good for anyone.”

“You know, you should talk to her.”

Those eyes open and fix on his.

“Talk to her about how she makes me feel? What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin almost fifteen years of friendship in the process? I’d rather just be her friend than not have her in my life at all.”

“And what if she feels the same way as you, Bucky? What if because you keep pushing her away she meets someone else, starts something with them? How will you feel then?”

He sees the torturous look that crosses his friend’s face.

“You know this is your chance. If you don’t take it, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. You know you will.”

“Damn it Steve,” Bucky groans. He reaches for the bottle of Johnnie Walker but Steve beats him to it, swiping it up with one hand and holding it out of reach.

“ _This_ won’t solve anything. Talk to her. You’re gonna see her at the wedding anyway. Call her tomorrow or send her a text.”

Bucky shakes his head.

“I can’t tell her how I feel so don’t make me. I just can’t.”

“Then talk to her about the kiss. You’ve always been honest with each other in the past.”

“About matters other than this. I can’t Steve…I just can’t right now.”

Steve just looks at him. “Okay, fine.”

“And you can’t say anything to her either,” Bucky warns him and Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s not my place to say anything Buck, I wouldn’t. C’mon, grab a jacket, we’re gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air into your lungs and help clear your head. Maybe we can grab a pizza on the way back, see if there’s anything worth watching on that big ass TV of yours.”

“Jess has put you up to this, to babysit me tonight?”

“Well…Peggy has a dress fitting as do her bridesmaids so I’m at a bit of a loose end. We can also talk about your best man duties. You need to come to the rehearsal as well as the dinner next Friday night and meet Peg’s best friend, who you’ll be paired up with on the day.”

He hears the sound Bucky makes and knows he’d rather have his teeth pulled without anaesthetic than do that but it’s a special occasion and it has to be done. “You’re my best man, you gotta be there and you have to escort the maid of honour and be nice to her. Olivia will be at the dinner too, I think she’ll feel better knowing you’re gonna be there. Jess won’t be as she’s not part of the bridal party, you won’t even see her.”  Steve is deliberately cajoling him along and Bucky knows it but he rolls his eyes anyway.

“You’re a dick but okay. Pizza. TV. Wedding talk.”

“And tomorrow, suit fittings.”

Bucky makes another sound in the back of his throat and briefly shuts his eyes again, slowly shaking his head at the same time.

“Shit, I’d completely forgotten about that. What time?”

“One. During my lunch hour so set an alarm, you can’t miss it.”

“Relax, I won’t.” His eyes widen at Steve’s snort. “I promise, I won’t!”

* * *

 

She’s grateful that the house is empty but not so much that she’s wandering around the place like a lost spirit. Tony wanted his daughter to have space but there were times this place feels like a damned mausoleum.

Her mind goes back to earlier in the day. The look on Bucky’s face after that kiss. He looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind. She saw very real fear on his face and she wonders why.

Kissing him. She’ll be honest; the thought of doing that has crossed her mind more than once. Several times in fact. Wondered what it would be like but she’s never been brave enough to find out.

There have been times when she’s sensed an extra something between them. A look, a touch even a smile. Sometimes it’s just a tiny little frisson of something, an awareness perhaps and while she may have wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her or to kiss him, she’s never crossed that line and physically given in to it until today.

His reaction though….she sighs in disappointment. She wasn’t sure what his reaction would be but it wasn’t that.

The worse times were when she was feeling lonely, neglected by Tony, tired and unappreciated by everyone. When Olivia was a newborn, screaming the place down with colic and nothing would settle her and she’d be at her wits end, Bucky would appear, seemingly at a loose end, bringing pizza, a bottle of wine and he’d scoop his goddaughter out of her arms and walk the floor with her instead, quietly commiserating with her as she sobbed with tummy pains, resting her against his shoulder and rubbing her back slowly and carefully always talking to her until she cried herself to sleep. No one could get Olivia to sleep like her Uncle James could. He’d lay her down in her crib and then draw Jess into his arms and hug her against him until she felt more capable, more confident and calmer in herself. She drew from his strength and his support.

She doesn’t want to lose that now and she may have blown it by kissing him but staring at him in his bed she wasn’t sure what overcame her but finally she did and damn it, he had kissed her back so the idea wasn’t completely repellent to him.

Or maybe it was just a normal male reaction to a woman, any woman kissing him. She huffs out a sigh. How many guys has she kissed exactly? Way to go, she berates herself. It’s not as though he’s short of female company. She’s lost count of the times she’s let herself into his apartment and walked in on his date _du jour_ , usually someone whose name he couldn’t remember, someone he’d picked up in a bar or at the gym the night before and who he’d get rid of with a kiss and cab fare the next morning. Out of sight, out of mind.

She broods over the kiss for the rest of the day, picking up Olivia at the end of the school day before dropping her off at the bridal salon with Tony’s promise to pick her up at the end of it and take her out for burgers and to see a movie. Olivia is a little subdued, telling her mom that she’s a little nervous because she’s the youngest bridesmaid, she doesn’t really know anyone there apart from Peggy but that she’s looking forward to trying her dress on.

And once more she rattles around the house by herself with just a glass of wine for company, her phone in her pocket. More than once she’s taken it out with the intention of calling or texting Bucky but stopped herself at the last moment.

It’s late when her phone bleeps with a text.

_‘I’ll see you at the wedding. We’ll talk then.’_

Bucky. Making contact. The wedding is less than a week away. She can wait.

* * *

 

Weddings.

Bucky sighs quietly from his position at Steve’s side. They’re standing at the top of the aisle with the priest and he’s watching the bridal procession heading up the aisle for the…God he’s lost count now…time. He’s bored, fidgety. His eyes keep scanning the people present, imagining he can see Jess but she’s not here, she’s never been here but he can see Olivia at the front of the bridal queue holding a little basket and mimicking tossing rose petals along the runner. She’s taking her task very seriously. At the last minute she looks up, catches his eye and she grins. Bucky smiles back and gives her a surreptitious thumbs up as well as a wink as she takes her position across the aisle from him. He sneaks a look at Steve. He can’t take his eyes off his bride to be, New York Police Detective Margaret Carter aka Peggy. Brunette, brown eyed, very capable with a crystal cut English accent that can chill him to his bones when she’s unamused by him, which he admits, can be often. She scares Bucky a little at how in control she is but his friend is utterly smitten with her and vice versa and he does think it’s kinda sweet but he’ll die first before admitting that fact to him or to anyone else. He stands up straight as the rest of the bridal party get to where they need to be. His companion, for want of a better description is a girl called, he thinks, Amy. She’s Peggy’s best friend, a forensic scientist or something similar. He kinda phased out after the introduction. She’s a tall chilly red head and Bucky hasn’t really been in the mood to socialise or be sociable today. He just wants to get the evening over with, as well as this damned rehearsal dinner. He doesn’t know what he’s dreading the most; seeing Jess at the wedding itself tomorrow or the hours where he has to be a perfect gentleman, be sociable as well as human. He’s seen the way Peggy’s friend has looked at him, taken in his overlong hair and beard and he just knows that tomorrow is going to be one long fucking day.

Finally the formalities are done with and everyone knows what their roles and responsibilities for tomorrow will be. Just the rehearsal dinner to get through now. Bucky is exhausted. He still isn’t sleeping properly, there’s far too much shit taking up residence inside the party palace that’s his brain right now but he has to behave himself. Meaning that he has to continue to be nice mannered and sociable to everyone even if he really wants to tell one or two of them to fuck off and die. He’s caught sight of Steve watching him a couple of times, trying to hide the worried look in his eyes and it’s made him more determined that he can do this, that he _has_ to do this.

“Hey Uncle J.”

He looks down at his goddaughter and he smiles.

“Uncle J, huh?” he teases and sees Olivia grin.

“Do you like it?”

Bucky pretends to think it over and then nods.

“I don’t mind it.” He holds out a hand and watches as she slips her hand into his. They fall into step behind Steve and Peggy as they exit the church.

“How ya been munchkin?” he asks as they emerge into the warm night air.

“I’m good. What about you?”

“I’m okay, why do you ask?” He looks down at her to see her observing him with a keenness he finds mildly discomforting because it reminds him so much of her mother.

“Because mom has barely left the house this week and she’s been in a weird mood too.”

He ignores the clench he feels in his chest at the mention of Jess.

“Weird how?”

“Distracted. Usually she’s with you or she’s talking about you and how you are but she hasn’t said a word. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

_Or something._

“No…I’ve just been busy that’s all. I’m working to a deadline so we haven’t had time to catch up.” The lie catches the back of his throat.

“I think she misses you.”

Another clench of his heart.

“I miss her too but I’ll see her at the wedding tomorrow, I’ll talk to her then.”

“You promise?”

“Of course I promise. You know me, I’m good for it.”

* * *

 

The dinner was almost fun for him. It helped that he was seated between Steve and Olivia and between them they’ve kept him amused and occupied and reasonably comfortable. It’s nice spending one on one time with Olivia; Jess was right, it’s been far too long since he has done and he makes a mental note to do something about it soon. Maybe after all of this is done and dusted, he could finally take her out for pizza.

That’s if Jess will talk to him again.

Presently the dinner ends and the guests begin to take their leave. Bucky feels a weight against his arm and turns his head and looks down. He softly smiles when he sees Olivia leaning against it.

“Hey honey,” he murmurs and she looks up at him with heavy eyes. “Worn out, huh?”

She slowly nods and her eyes slip shut.

“Is your mom picking you up?”

Olivia doesn’t open her eyes this time but she slowly nods again.

“Come here,” he whispers, moving his arm across her back and he lifts her out of her seat and across onto his lap. He guides her head against his shoulder. “Get comfortable.” He then looks at Steve who is across the room, talking to his prospective in laws. Steve looks his way and his eyes widen marginally when he sees Olivia asleep on Bucky’s lap.

“I’ll call Jess,” he mouths to him and Bucky nods. He tightens his arms around Olivia, feeling how she snuggles into him. He looks down at the top of her head and smiles softly.

A short while later and he sees Jess come into the restaurant and he ignores how his heart hitches in his chest at the sight of her. She looks beautiful in jeans and a plain white shirt and in that moment he realises how much he’s missed her. Their gazes catch and she falters a little. She then takes a deep breath and straightens her spine and slowly approaches him.

“Hey,” she greets neutrally.

“Hey yourself. She’s worn out.” Sees how her gaze drops to her daughter.

“She’s had a busy day, with school and the rehearsal. She should’ve called me if she was tired instead of using you as a bed.”

Bucky looks down at Olivia.

“I don’t mind. She’s had a good time today, practising for tomorrow, I think it all just caught up with her. Are you parked outside?”

Jess nods. She looks awkward and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“She can walk,” she tells him. Bucky shakes his head.

“I can carry her, it’s not a problem,” he answers and slowly gets to his feet. He feels Olivia lift her head from his shoulder, winding her arms around his neck. Bucky quietly shushes her and feels her head lower onto his shoulder again.

“C’mon,” he tells Jess and follows her out of the restaurant.

They don’t speak as they walk to her car. He doesn’t like this awkwardness, this silence between them. It feels alien and wrong.  He waits as she unlocks her car and opens the rear passenger door.

Olivia begins to wake up as Bucky helps her into the rear seat, stepping back as Jess fastens her seat belt around her before straightening up and closing the door. She then turns to look at him. Her eyes are wary, almost sad. He pushes his hands into the front pocket of his pants and stares at his feet.

“Thank you for looking after her, Bucky.”

He lifts his head at her softly spoken words and makes eye contact watching as she looks away.

“I’m her godfather Jess, I didn’t mind at all. Hey…” He reaches out and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looks at him once more.

“I’m sorry…about the other day. I overreacted and as always I acted like an ass. Forgive me?”

Slowly she smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m sorry for kissing you. I overstepped and misinterpreted the mood. You had every right to react the way that you did.”

“No…” He shakes his head. “You didn’t misinterpret the mood.”  He ignores the feeling of his heart banging in his chest and takes a step back when he sees the surprise blossom in her eyes. “You’d better get your girl home and into bed. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Bucky…”

He shakes his head. “No…we’ll talk tomorrow like I said. Go on, I’ll see you both then,” he tells her. She pauses, as if she wants to say something else. Instead she grips her car keys tighter and then nods.

“Okay. Goodnight Bucky.”

“G’night Jess.”

He remains still as she gets into her car, staying still as she starts the engine and drives away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day dawns....

**Nine:**

Steve will be nervous and Bucky doesn’t blame him. It’s the most important day of his life after all.

He huffs out a sigh and moves around Steve’s kitchen, making coffee and toast and wondering whether his best friend can stomach solid food right now. What they both really need is one of Jess’s amazing English breakfasts and for a moment he contemplates calling her, asking her if she’ll do this for him. He even goes as far as to take his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and staring at the screen before replacing it with a roll of his eyes. She’ll be busy with Olivia, getting her to Peggy’s parents’ place to get ready for the day ahead. She won’t have time to cook for them.

Toast and coffee it is then.

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Bucky turns his head and watches his best friend walk into the kitchen, sleep rumpled, still in pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt.

“Hey yourself. Sleep okay?”

Steve yawns and slowly nods. “What are you doin’?” he enquires, absently scratching the back of his neck.

“Coffee and toast. I was just thinkin’ we shoulda asked Jess whether she’d make one of her famous breakfasts.” He watches the slow smile that crosses Steve’s face at the memory.

“Oh yeah. They were great. I think about them once in a while but we couldn’t do that.”

Bucky widens his eyes. “Why not? If we ask her nicely enough she might.”

“Isn’t she pissed at you or are you still pissed at her, I can’t remember.”

“I think we’re okay now, we talked a little last night when she came to pick the munchkin up, we both apologised…” he shrugs, his voice trailing off, semi embarrassed.

They’re interrupted by a tap on the door. The two men look at each other.

“You expectin’ anyone?” Bucky asks and Steve slowly shakes his head.

“No, not yet.”

Bucky follows him to the front door and watches him peer though the peep hole and then he sighs and looks at him over his shoulder.

“You’re a goddamn psychic, Barnes,” he murmurs. Bucky watches in puzzlement as Steve unlocks the door and his eyes widen when he sees Jess standing there, a couple of grocery store bags in her hands. She offers Steve a soft smile.

“Hey…I hope you don’t mind my showing up here unannounced and uninvited but considering today is a very special day…” She holds up the bags. “How about I make you guys breakfast?” she suggests.

Steve smiles, reaching across and taking both bags from her.

“We were literally just talking about this…c’mon in and thank you, this would be great. Only if you join us too, in fact I insist on it.”  He moves back and Bucky does the same as Jess comes inside.

“Hey Bucky,” Jess greets as she walks by.

“Jess,” he murmurs neutrally and watches her as she heads into the apartment and towards the kitchen. He exchanges a look with Steve but doesn’t say anything and follows him through.

* * *

 

Bucky watches her as she busies herself in Steve’s kitchen.

“When was the last time we did this, the three of us?” Steve wonders and Jess looks at him over one shoulder.

“Just the three of us? Before I got married. The very last time was…” She pauses and looks at Bucky who is drinking coffee at the counter beside her.

“The day before I was deployed,” he reminds her.

Jess regards him. He’d spent the morning walking around her kitchen nursing a grumpy, starting to teethe three month old Olivia while she cooked for them. It was the least she could do, her daughter was in a super cranky mood that morning.

“You always did have a magic touch where Olivia was concerned.”

“Did she sleep okay when you got home last night?” Bucky asks and she nods.

“Just had time to brush her teeth and get her pyjamas on before hitting the sack, she was wiped out.”

“She had a good time. She’ll have a good time today too,” Bucky tells her. Jess nods, still holding his gaze. He’s the first one to look away, pretending great interest in his coffee cup.

She cooks and serves and sits beside Steve and across from Bucky. There’s fresh coffee and even a pot of English breakfast tea for Jess.

“So how are you feeling?” Jess asks Steve as she pours coffee for both him and Bucky. The smile Steve offers her is shy.

“I’ll be honest in admitting that I’m a little nervous,” he confesses and Jess smiles softly at him.

“Of course you will be. No matter how long you’ve waited for today, how much you’ve prepared for it, you’ll still be scared. I know I was.”

“I remember how hard you were shaking, I thought you weren’t gonna manage to make it to the altar.”

Jess smiles reminiscently. “Neither did I.” She glances at Bucky and then away again. Steve had given her away. She’d thought about asking Bucky but Steve volunteered instead. She lifts her tea cup and takes a sip.

“How’s Olivia?”

“At Peggy’s mom’s house being pampered. She’ll have a blast,” Jess responds.

“Wearing a pretty dress and having her hair done, what’s there not to love,” Steve comments and Jess smiles.

* * *

 

Breakfast is over and Jess clears up.

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky comments coming to stand beside her as she washes up. She glances at him.

“And I can’t expect you guys to do it, not today. I don’t mind. All I have to do is head home and get ready, it won’t take me long.”

“You don’t need too much, you look beautiful in whatever you wear,” Bucky replies and then snaps his mouth shut, aware that he may have said too much. He sneaks a glance at her and sees the pink that blushes her cheeks. Yep, he definitely has.

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget and use my inside voice outside. It can get embarrassin’ at times.” He keeps his voice low and confidential. She glances at him and smiles very softly, as if sharing the secret.

“You should use that inside voice outside a little more often, it’s nice. Don’t you have to get ready?” She turns her head further and takes him in. He shrugs.

“I’ve got time. Are we okay Jess?”

She looks into his eyes and smiles once again, nodding her head.

“Yeah Buck, we’re fine. We’ll always be okay.”

Bucky slowly and quietly exhales.

“Good. I’m glad,” he murmurs.

* * *

 

Presently she’s cleared up, put away the dishes.

She then looks at both men and smiles, reaching for her purse.

“Now I’m going to head home to change. I will see you both at the church in a couple of hours.” She approaches Steve and stands on tiptoe as she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him.

“You’re going to have the best day,” she whispers. She smiles into his eyes as she draws back. “Now you need to hit the shower and get yourself ready. I would hate to see you rushing around at the last moment.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve answers with a grin and she giggles. She then looks at Bucky who is watching her carefully, his gaze sliding down to his feet when she meets his.

“Look after him and get him to the church on time. Don’t forget the rings and no alcohol til after the service.”

She watches Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise as they fix on her face again.

“Yes mom,” he breathes and her eyes twinkle as she tries to repress a grin.

“I’ll see you both at the church. Do not be late.”

* * *

 

He can’t remember the last time he wore a tuxedo. He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit. When Olivia was baptised, he wore his dress uniform and Jess fussed the whole time in case the baby threw up on it which she didn’t do. He sits beside Steve on the first row of pews and tugs a little at the collar. It feels like it’s slowly choking him into submission. This is why he doesn’t wear a suit though he has to wear one for the Macpherson thing next month. According to Steve, it’s been confirmed that he’ll attend and the board are quietly excited at the prospect. He kinda wishes that he hadn’t committed to it now, it’s only the thought of attending with Jess that’s kept him on board. He turns his head and takes in the guests attending. There are a lot of them; Steve and Peggy know a lot of people. He sighs quietly, frowning slightly.

“You okay, Buck?”

At Steve’s quietly spoken question, Bucky looks at him.

“I should be askin’ you that.”

“I’m okay, I’m asking you.”

“There’s a lotta people here Steve,” he murmurs.

“Do you need a few minutes?”

Bucky looks back up the church and it’s then that he sees her. He just shakes his head, unable to tear his eyes from their latest visitor.

* * *

 

Jess is walking down the aisle and all he’s aware of is the steady pound of his heart beating in his ears. He swears the rest of the universe just fades away.

She’s wearing a navy blue dress with wide shoulder straps, a nipped in waist and lots of petticoats. Her hair curls around her face and against the back of her neck, short but thick, part of which is tucked behind one ear and he sees a diamond stud sparkling in the lobe. She catches sight of him watching her and she softly smiles. Steve also turns his head and watches her too as she slides into the pew behind them. Steve gets to his feet and leans across and presses a kiss on her cheek.

“Jess…you look stunning. Doesn’t she Bucky?”

Bucky blinks, suddenly clicking back into his surroundings. He clears his throat and gets to his feet.

“Yeah,” he agrees huskily. Jess looks at him. She’s not smiling now but there’s a calmness, a confidence about her.

“As do you boys. Wow, you both scrub up very nicely.”

Bucky looks down at his tuxedo and he looks back at Jess and offers her a shy smile.

“Though I dunno for how long,” he replies. He watches how she smiles and bites on her lower lip at the same time and he feels attraction sucker punch him in the belly.

“If you were able to keep your dress uniform clean for Olivia’s baptism, I’m sure you’ll manage just fine today,” she comments and sits down.

A weird hush falls and Bucky looks to the back of the church. Something is happening. He sees doors begin to open and he looks at Steve.

“I think this is our cue,” he murmurs and together they get to their feet.

* * *

 

Jess watches the wedding party approach; Olivia at the front, a vision in pale pink Grecian style dress, the colour which complements her dark colouring. She’s carrying a small white basket which contains rose petals in equally pale shades; pink, yellow, white and behind her are the other bridesmaids, all wearing the same style dresses in the same ice cream shades. Olivia’s hair tumbles down her back, carefully brushed away from her face and held back by an Alice band with two pink roses just above her ear. She looks gorgeous and her eyes are sparkling as she catches sight of her mother. Jess smiles back. Across the aisle is her father and her stepmother who are also observing her with keen interest. Presently Peggy comes into view on the arm of her father and she’s a vision in white lace, a sheer veil just as long as her dress completing the look. She’s watching Steve as she approaches him and Jess can see her serenity, her certainty that she’s making the best decision of her life right on her face and a lump threatens in her throat at the sight of it. As she turns in her seat to face forward, she sees the expression in Bucky’s eyes, the very slight frown on his face. He looks her way, holding her gaze for a second or two before turning to face the priest with Steve.

The ceremony passes without a hitch and Jess smiles softly as Steve and Peggy are proclaimed husband and wife. Steve kisses his new bride and she blinks back happy tears. Around her a soft ripple of applause breaks out.

* * *

 

Bucky has forgotten how much he hates being photographed. He didn’t used to mind but that was before he was deployed. When he was rescued and brought back home he was constantly photographed; there was the horror show of when he was being wheeled off the airplane onto the tarmac which fortunately he barely remembers. All he does remember of that event was the bright white camera flashes. He was somewhat cushioned by the haze of super strength painkillers courtesy of a recent surgery but those flashes he does remember. He was then fairly well protected at the rehab clinic but afterwards, once he was free of all of that, he was fair game to some of the paparazzi. A couple of times he turned on the particularly persistent ones, a picture appearing in one paper of him glaring at the photographer, eyes wild, arm raised, ready to punch his lights out before common sense invaded and he’d managed to escape. Now they leave him alone. They have to see him to photograph him and he’s got very good at being invisible.

Today he poses for photographs, reminding himself they’re mementos of a special day in the life of someone who means a lot to him and so he puts up with the stress and tries to ignore the feeling of wanting to jump out of his skin each time a camera flash goes off.

“Hey Uncle J,”

“Hey munchkin.” He smiles as his goddaughter hugs him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly as only she can and does. He reciprocates, lifting her off her feet, hearing her giggle which in turn makes him grin. “Have I told you just how beautiful you look today in your gorgeous dress? The belle of the ball.”

Olivia dimples a smile at him.

“Thank you.”

He lowers her to her feet but holds onto one of her hands.

“I just wanted to check in, see if you’re okay.”

Bucky smiles at her, touched by her concern.

“I’m fine honey, absolutely fine.”

“Good. I remember mom saying that sometimes being around lots of people can make you…”

“Cranky? And she’d be right but today I’m fine. It’s Uncle Steve’s special day so of course I’m gonna be okay.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re not, won’t you?”

“Munchkin, I’m fine. You sound just like your mom, do you know that?”

Olivia grins and squeezes his hand for a moment before she lets go of him and skips across the lawn of the country club towards her father and stepmother. He watches her go to him and slide her arms around his waist and hug him close too but turns away before he can make eye contact.

* * *

 

The reception passes relatively uneventfully but Bucky has to admit that he’s a little bored. There are no speeches to be held today, the whole purpose of the reception is for it to be a gathering of friends, family and loved ones, for everyone to get along and not stand on formality and so far it’s been a success although he and the maid of honour, definitely called Amy, haven’t really hit it off. They’ve said maybe a dozen words to each other all day and that’s suited Bucky just fine. He’s had a few speculative looks from some of the other guests present; one or two double takes and those brief bolts of recognition made his stomach churn and a bead or two of sweat pop out on his forehead. Fortunately they’ve had the good grace to leave him alone and he’s been thankful for that. His eyes catch sight of Jess across the venue seated at another table. Why weren’t they seated together? He quietly sighs. At least he has Olivia with him, so it hasn’t been all bad. They’ve taken care of each other throughout the reception itself and it’s been fun for him, having her to himself. He’s listened to her talk about school, the various projects she’s involved in, the A grade she got for a recent book report. He’s listened to every word and been enthralled.

A little while later and a band is playing. The bride and groom have already had their first dance and Bucky watches the other guests on the dance floor moving to the music. He used to love to dance once upon a time. Used to drag Jess laughing and reluctant, onto the dance floor and they’d end up having a blast. It seems there was so much he used to love doing before he was deployed. Now it just doesn’t interest him. He doesn’t find the joy in it any more.

He’s been abandoned by his goddaughter, she’s currently sitting with her dad and stepmom and he’s lost sight of Jess. He sighs. They haven’t had their conversation yet, he still doesn’t really know what he’ll say to her. They cleared the air earlier today and maybe that’s enough for her but it isn’t enough for him. He reaches for his champagne glass and takes a sip. The good stuff, the bubbles dance on his tongue and he almost doesn’t see the shadow that crosses his vision. He looks up in time to see Jess sit down on the empty seat beside him. The seat that had once belonged to the maid of honour, wherever she’s disappeared to. Not that he cares anymore.

“Hey you,” she greets, placing her own champagne glass beside his. His eyes scan her face.

“Hey yourself.”

“You look a little out of sorts. Everything okay?”

“I’m just about to hit my other people tolerance limit but apart from that, I’m okay. Your daughter has been looking out for me too. You’re quite the team.”

Jess smiles at this.

The music changes and the band strike up the opening theme to a familiar tune.

_‘Stars shining bright above you…_

_Night breezes seem to whisper I love you’…_

Both of them lift their heads and then look at the dance floor.

“Jesus, I haven’t heard this song in such a long time,” Bucky murmurs to her.

“I know…”

It’s a song that they both love, originally by Ella Fitzgerald but made more famous by the Mamas and Papas; ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’.

“You wanna dance?” Bucky enquires, overtaken by a sense of _if I don’t ask her now then I never will_ bravado.He sees the surprise bloom in her eyes before she nods. He takes her hand and they both rise and head onto the dance floor.

It’s been a while since he’s danced with anyone and he isn’t sure he’ll remember how.

* * *

 

_He didn’t think he had so many friends but here they all are, crowding up every single inch of available space, nursing drinks, chatting amongst themselves and generally having a good time. Bucky smiles at them as he moves between them._

_Tonight is his farewell party prior to deployment, arranged and hosted by Jess in her big new house. It’s like something out of a magazine; modern, spacious with really white furnishings, not the best colour to entertain when you have a newborn but what does he know? More people are crowded in the kitchen. He guesses it’s true when they say all the best parties are in the kitchen. French patio doors are wide open, letting in the warm summer air where more guests spill out onto the immaculate green lawn. There are lights and lanterns hung and strung along shrubbery, hedges and pretty much anything that’ll support them and he casts them an absent look as he searches for Jess. Music is playing, echoing through the night, a collection of favourites that they’ve garnered in all the years they’ve known each other, one after the other. Music and memories. Memories made. Memories to make. More party guests dancing._

_He sees her finally, looking breathtaking in a plain white sun dress. Her skin is tanned a very light gold and it makes the rest of her glow, at least to him it does._

_“Hey, there you are,” Bucky murmurs and she turns and she smiles at him._

_“Here I am, what’s up?” she asks, looking into his eyes. Bucky glances at the couple who’ve been holding her attention. Of Tony there is no sign. To be truthful, he’d have been more surprised if he’d been here. He takes her hand._

_“Need to talk to you for a minute in private, if that’s okay?”_

_She smiles at him, wrapping her fingers around his and giving them a squeeze._

_“Of course it is, lead the way.”_

_As they emerge onto the patio, the music changes. It’s a slower song, familiar. Romantic almost._

_“Oh…I know this one,” Bucky comments as they both pause to listen._

_“Mama’s and Papas, Dream a Little Dream of Me. One of my favourites,” Jess answers softly. Bucky looks at her, recognising it._

_“Did you know, Ella Fitzgerald performed it originally?” he replies and sees her surprise._

_“I didn’t.”_

_He tightens his hold on her fingers for just a second._

_“Dance with me?” he asks, ignoring the thump that starts in his chest. Her eyes widen a little with surprise._

_“Oh…I…”_

_“Oh c’mon Jessa-mine, one last dance before I ship out…please?” he teases and then sees how she blushes and looks away._

_“Okay…seein’ as you asked so nicely. Though I apologise if I stand on your toes,” she replies with a chuckle._

_“Oh I think my toes will survive just fine.” He leads her onto the patio area with the other slow dancers and if anyone notices, they don’t comment._

_They slowly sway to the music, barely moving, allowing the song to wash over them. He holds her hand up against his chest and looks down at her._

_“I also want you to know that I’ve named you my next of kin. Just in case somethin’ happens to me over there…” he begins, his tone halting. He sees the surprise blossom across her face._

_“I thought you’d ask Steve?”_

_“I did think about it and I know he’s my best friend but you…well you know me in a way he doesn’t. You get me in a way that he doesn’t and plus you’re the mother of my Goddaughter.”_

_She looks into his eyes. “Nothin’s gonna happen to you, you know that, right?”_

_“I know, but just in case…”_

_Jess sighs raggedly._

_“Don’t…”_

_“It’s important Jess…I have no blood family, you and Steve and the munchkin are it for me and if anythin’ happens…if I don’t make it back for whatever reason…like I said, you’re it.”_

_He sees the pensive expression that crosses her face._

_“Okay, fine but you’ll be coming home and everything will be fine, you mark my words.”_

_“Words duly marked. Now dance with me, woman…” he retorts with a cheerfulness he doesn’t feel._

* * *

 

“If I stand on your feet then I apologise profusely in advance,” he murmurs close to her ear and she looks at him and she smiles. He draws her into his arms, gently bringing her right hand up against his chest, resting his own in the small of her back. She slowly leans into him and together they just sway to the music. His heart is beginning to pulse in his chest. Her hair is soft against his cheek, the scent of her perfume; a mixture of honey, caramel, lemon and bergamot teasing at his already heightened senses. She’s never changed her perfume in all the years he’s known her and he found it comforting during his rehabilitation. When he began to feel anxious or overwhelmed then just the scent of it helped to settle him down.

She lifts her head and looks at him.  He notices the shine in her eyes and it makes him frown a little.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” His voice is low. It takes her a moment to respond, to smile.

“Just this song…” she answers and then gives her head a little shake. She then takes a deep breath, filling her lungs. “For a long time, when I thought you were…” She glances up at him and offers a tiny smile. “I couldn’t listen to it without wanting to cry,” she whispers and then looks away again.

“But I’m here now Jess, I’m right here,” he whispers back, holding onto her, squeezing her fingers a little bit tighter. “And I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

She looks up at him and she sighs somewhat shakily. “I know. I guess I’m just bein’ stupid,” she confesses.

“Not stupid. Never stupid,” he reassures her and she leans into him once more, resting her head against his shoulder and his heart gives another bump in response.

Presently the song ends and for Bucky, reality begins to seep back in. For just that couple of minutes it was just him and her, no one else. He watches how she takes a half step back but she doesn’t let go of his hand and her eyes fix on his face.  

“Bucky…” she whispers. He can’t speak, he can barely hear over the loud pounding of his heart in his ears. He just stares back at her, all of a sudden rooted to the spot.

“Jess…I….” She lets go of his hand but doesn’t break eye contact. He waits, feeling adrenaline spike through his bloodstream when she takes a step towards him and then another. She moves right into his personal space. His heart gives a jump as she lifts both hands to frame his face and she presses her mouth against his. For a brief second his head is filled with the sound of white noise and he thinks his heart is about to explode right out of his chest. His own hands come to rest on her waist, feeling the soft silk of her dress beneath his fingertips, the heat of her skin beneath it. He splays his hands out, his thumbs tracing the skin beneath her breasts and he hears her quiet gasp as his mouth explores hers, tasting champagne.

Finally they draw apart.

“I won’t apologise,” she tells him, licking her bottom lip, a swipe he feels in the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t want you to,” he answers, a little dazed and unbelievably turned on at the same time. His hands still rest on her waist and he draws her up against him and he kisses her, gently, savouring her.

“I’ve wanted… it’s something…” He stops talking, his brain incapable to forming the exact words that he wants to say to her. Just that the kiss feels right, he’s not scared any more. This is his moment, _their_ moment. He can feel it in his gut. To prove it to himself, he kisses her again.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky should be on cloud nine after that kiss, right? Think again.

**Ten:**

Bucky watches Jess on the dance floor. She’s dancing with Olivia, spinning her around under one arm, a huge smile on her face and Olivia is laughing with ill-concealed delight. He softly smiles and turns his head, reaching for his glass and sees Tony drop down onto the vacant chair beside him. Bucky glances at him as he takes a sip of champagne. The hair on the back of his neck prickles as he wonders what he wants. They may have Jess in common but as far as Bucky is concerned, these days that’s all they have.

“How many of those have you had today, Barnes?” Tony enquires in an amicable manner that doesn’t fool Bucky for a single moment but he smiles at him anyway and makes a show of examining his glass.

“I’m not sure, how many do you think?” he replies, looking him in the eye. Tony smiles back but Bucky isn't fooled and doesn’t let his guard down.

“Is there something that you want, Stark?” he enquires instead.

“You and Jess. On the dance floor.” Tony’s voice is low, gruff.

Bucky makes a show of widening his eyes. “We were dancing. We’ve done that before... in the past,” he answers and sees how Tony rolls his eyes.

Then slowly Bucky widens his eyes as if pretending to finally understand what Tony actually means.

“Oh. You mean the _kiss_? Or the kisses plural? Are you warning me off your ex-wife, emphasis on the ex part, Tony?” he enquires.

“She’s also the mother of my child.”

Bucky leans back in his seat, closes his eyes for a moment and takes a slow deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs. He counts to five before opening them and looking back at him.

“Who happens to be my goddaughter, just in case that part had slipped your mind?”

“What _do_ you think you’re doing?”

Bucky hears the cynicism and he looks away again as he feels guilt nip at him. That’s a very good question, what _does_ he think he’s doing with a girl like Jess? He _does_ know what he’d like to do but doubts Tony wouldn’t appreciate that piece of information.

“I don’t know Tony, what do you think I’m doing? Because the last time I checked, it was none of your business,” Bucky reminds him, feeling irritation scratch at his skin like a persistent itch that he can’t quite get at. “You jealous?” he prods instead, unable to help himself, wanting to rattle Tony’s cage just a little bit. He sees how his expression darkens and guesses that it’s mission accomplished. Cage is rattled.

“You’re a joke, do you know that? She takes care of you when you’re barely able to take care of yourself. The drunken stupors, the blackouts, rescuing you from some anonymous street corner when you’ve lost your wallet. Picking you up off the floor when you’re passed out drunk. _Again_. You call her and she’s there, every time.” He pauses and his eyes gleam.

“What the hell do you hope to offer her? She’s not the type of girl that you play with for a period of time and then put her down and ignore when she bores you. She’s an all or nothing kinda girl.”

Bucky’s head snaps around and his eyes blaze grey blue at him.

“All or _nothing_? Who the _fuck_ do you think you are? You neglected her for all the years of your marriage!” he snarls at him.  “I was her _friend_ when she needed one.  I was the one who drove her to the hospital when she went into labour with Olivia. I was the one who kept her company when the baby kept her up all night and she was exhausted. I was the one who listened to her worry about her ability to be a wife and a mother. Where the fuck were you when all of that was happening? You’ll have to remind me because I don’t remember seeing you anywhere. So don’t you _dare_ sit there in judgement and tell me she’s an all or nothing kinda girl because I already _know_!”

Temper burns through him and he sees the shock reflected in Tony’s eyes at his words.

“I was her husband. You? You just wanted her,” Tony snaps back and for a moment cold shock fogs Bucky’s brain, promptly replacing the burn.

“I knew that. I respected that. You, not so much!” Bucky answers and then takes another deep breath.

“I sat and I watched her break her heart over you, over Olivia.  You gave her nothing except what your money could buy. She needed reassurance, she needed you to love her but you didn’t see that and I guess by the time that you did, _if_ you did, then it was too late!” he retaliates.

Tony’s eyes are wide with surprise at the strength of Bucky’s bristling unbridled anger.

“You gave her what you thought she needed. What you should’ve done was give her who she actually wanted and that was you, _your_ time, _your_ attention.” He watches as Tony seems to grapple with what he’s telling him and he all but rolls his eyes.

“You think because I drink, that I’m a drunk, that I don’t see? I saw it _all_ , Tony. So go and be a husband to your new wife, take care of _her_ and leave us be. You know I would never hurt Jess and I certainly would never do anything to hurt Olivia.”

“If it was up to me I wouldn’t let you within ten feet of my daughter!” Tony retaliates, his body language all but exploding with temper and this time, Bucky does roll his eyes.

“It isn’t up to you though is it? Don’t be that petty because I won’t roll over and do as you ask.  Don’t push Jess and _please_ , don’t push me. While you have every right to be concerned and care about your daughter, you lost the right to do that with Jess the day you asked for and then signed those divorce papers,” he answers.

He then closes his eyes and takes another deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs once more. He doesn’t like losing control, not in a public place and right now he’s perilously close to doing that. He turns his head and his eyes seek Jess out and he sees her still on the dance floor, smiling at Olivia, twirling her beneath her arm again and he feels pain twist his heart. For everything he’s said in his and Jess’s defence, her ex-husband is correct. What _does_ he hope to achieve by going into a relationship with her? The drinking, the blackouts, the rages…he can’t expose her to anymore of that. Not with his heart so deeply invested. He’ll end up hurting her, making her hate him and he couldn’t take that.

He then looks back at Tony.

“I’m grateful for what you and your company did for me personally, I really am but the rest of it? The _really_ personal stuff? It’s none of your business, it doesn’t give you permission to intrude.”

“Where Olivia is concerned…”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Stop it. You can’t intimidate me so quit tryin’. You never could and you forget, I spent three years as a prisoner of war. What do you think you can you do to me that they didn’t already try?” Bucky mocks, his face twisting in fresh anger. He retrieves his champagne glass and drains its contents before getting to his feet and walking away.

* * *

 

Jess returns to the table and finds it unoccupied, just an empty champagne glass. She turns her head and looks around the room, looking for him. The music has eased off for a little while and a few of the guests have wandered outside. Maybe Bucky has followed? If that was the case, why didn’t he stick around and wait for her? She turns and heads outside with the rest of the guests.

Fireworks illuminate the night sky. Jess tries to pay them some attention but she’s still looking for Bucky. Since coming back from Iraq and Germany he tends to not like fireworks very much, the Fourth of July is an ordeal for him, even if it is Steve’s birthday and she can’t believe that he’d consent to a fireworks display knowing how his best friend as well as best man feels about them. She looks across to where Steve stands with his new bride and they’re both looking up at the exhibition of multi coloured sparkles and explosions. He isn’t smiling and he looks across the lawn and sees her standing there. Jess holds his gaze for a minute before she turns and continues her search for Bucky, ignoring the apprehension that’s building inside of her.

“Mom…” She feels Olivia’s hand slip into hers and give it a little tug. She looks at her daughter to see her worried dark brown eyes and it makes her frown.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” she enquires.

“Are you looking for Uncle J?”

“I am honey, have you seen him?” She sees Olivia nod and Jess sighs with relief.

“You did? Where is he?”

“Over there.” She points across the vast lawn to where there is a small wooded area away from the reception venue, somewhere quiet, Jess guesses.  “Mom he doesn’t look very well.” Jess hears the fear in her voice and she swallows against a suddenly dry throat.

“Okay baby. Uncle Steve is watching the fireworks with Aunt Peggy. I need you to go and get him and tell him that I need his help. Do you think you can do that?” Olivia nods.

“And after you’ve done that, stay with your dad, okay?” Another nod. Olivia lets go of her hand and Jess watches her for a moment before she turns and heads across the lawn.

* * *

 

It’s dark, the only light is from the moon above her, casting everything in silvery shadow. Jess carefully picks her way through the undergrowth, mindful that her expensive shoes aren’t built for this kind of expedition. She can hear the breeze gently rustle through the shrubbery but she listens more carefully all the same.

She can hear quiet whimpering.

Bucky.

Her stomach jolts as she heads towards it and she sees him. He’s crouched beneath a tree, curled up small, his arms wrapped around his head. For a moment Jess pauses and watches him. Even from here she can see that he’s trembling. She takes a slow deep breath and begins to walk again. She steps on a twig and the crack seems to reverberate around the small copse. His head snaps up, eyes wide and he looks in her direction and for a moment Jess gets the strangest feeling that he’s looking straight through her. Then another firework explodes overhead and it makes him flinch.

“Bucky.” She keeps her voice low, non-threatening as she slowly approaches him. She crouches down beside him but she’s careful to keep a little distance between them. There’s another explosion overhead, followed by a shrill screaming whistle and she hears him swallow down a moan, his arms coming over his head again.

“Hey. It’s Jess.” She waits and slowly his arms come down and he turns his head in her direction and she can see the tears in his eyes.

“Jess…” he whispers.

She moves a little bit closer. “Yeah honey it’s me. The fireworks scared you, huh?”

He just nods and he lifts his face to the night sky. “Yeah. I don’t like 'em. Not anymore.”

She inches closer to him and slowly, carefully she slides an arm across his shoulders, feeling how he trembles very slightly.

“I’m guessing Steve didn’t know about them. He wouldn’t have allowed them otherwise. He knows you don’t like them.” He’s tense, all of his muscles taut and quivering.

“Yeah. Maybe,” he sighs, his voice barely a whisper. He then turns his head and he looks at her.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Olivia saw you head this way before and she got worried and told me where you’d gone. Steve should be on his way shortly.” She turns her head when she hears footsteps and then she looks back at Bucky. “Sounds like him now.”

She feels his muscles begin to soften and her heart lifts when he leans against her, his hair brushing against her cheek. She sighs quietly and leans against him too, pressing a kiss against the top of his head, sliding her other arm across his chest and holding him close. After a moment or two he looks at her once again.

“We can’t do this.” His voice is low, devoid of any kind of emotion and she ignores the cold chill that swells in her stomach.

“We can’t?”

“You can’t keep coming to my rescue like this. You need to stop. You need to get on with your own life, with Olivia. I don’t want you to put me first, you shouldn’t be doin’ that anyway.”

Jess stares at him in confusion. “Bucky?”

“You need to go.” He straightens up and she removes her arms from around him and continues to stare at him, genuinely perplexed.

“What’s happened?” she demands, watching as he slowly gets to his feet. He leans against the tree trunk and she recognises how he holds himself. His legs aren’t quite strong enough to hold his weight. She slowly straightens up also and goes to stand in front of him and waits for him to make eye contact. A moment passes before he does.

“So, that kiss?”

“Was like you said, just a kiss. They happen.” He shrugs almost nonchalantly and tries not to wince at the expression of absolute pain that washes across her face.

“But you said…” Her words fade away as understanding begins to dawn, “Oh. I see it now. My ex-fucking-husband. What did he say to you?” Her voice hardens.

“He said nothing to me.”

“Don’t. I know you and you’re a hopeless liar.”

“Jess….”

She straightens her spine, shaking her head.

“If you won’t tell me then I guess I’ll have to ask him myself,” she tells him and walks away, passing Steve along the way.

* * *

 

She sees Tony standing with Pepper on the edge of the lawn and Olivia is with him, once more dancing and pirouetting in her bridesmaids dress. Jess takes a deep breath and walks towards them and as she gets closer, she feels her anger begin to bubble in her veins.

“Jess…” Tony begins, his tone friendly, even jovial but his voice fades away and she sees the mild frown that furrows his brow. He can tell that she’s pissed off. Good, she thinks, because she is.

“You and I need to have a conversation,” Jess begins.

“I’m not sure a wedding is the right place,” Tony replies a little nervously and Jess glares at him.

“On the contrary, this wedding is the perfect time, here is the perfect place; there’s nothing here to distract us, no phone calls, no secretaries, no clients, _nothing_.” Her voice turns icy.

“Why don’t I take Olivia inside to get a drink?” Pepper interrupts, obviously seeing Jess’s change in mood. Jess regards her, her expression no less chilly.

“Do that,” she answers and she watches as Pepper takes Olivia’s hand and leads the puzzled girl inside the building. Jess waits a moment before she looks back at her ex-husband.

“What did you say to Bucky?” she asks him.

“Why do you think I said anything to him?”

“Because all of a sudden he’s decided that he doesn’t need me in his life. He doesn’t need me to drop everything to help him and that I should take Olivia and live my life.”

“So?”

Jess just sends him a level look.

“Okay, maybe he and I had some words while you were dancing with Olivia but I was only protecting my daughter!”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve never been interested in my personal life after our divorce before. Is it because I kissed him on the dance floor, in front of all of the guests? Was _that_ what you objected to?”

“In front of all the guests!” he retorts and Jess’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Why should that bother you? Who I kiss is no business of yours, we’re _divorced_ and we’ve been divorced for over four years now. Did you ever hear me object to you dating Pepper? Marrying her? No you didn’t because it was never an issue for me and don’t you _dare_ insinuate you’re looking out for Olivia because neither I nor Bucky would _ever_ do anything to hurt her and you damn well know it!” Jess retaliates, her voice rising. Tony huffs out a sigh, his eyes skating around the other guests hanging around nearby before looking back at her.

“He’s no good for you Jess. You deserve someone so much better than him.”

“Oh really? Like who? You had your chance and you blew it. Is it because it’s Bucky, is that it?” When Tony doesn’t respond, Jess just stares at him as realisation slowly begins to dawn. “Oh my God, that’s _exactly_ it,” she whispers.

“He’s always had a thing for you, from the moment you introduced him to me I could see it!”

Jess’s jaw drops open at this revelation and then she shakes her head.

“You’re imagining things. He did not. He never made a move.”

“Because he knew you were with me.”

“And doesn’t that tell you something about him? That he’s honourable?” she argues.

Tony doesn’t reply.

“However _you_ may feel about Bucky is your business, Tony. However _I_ may feel about him is mine too. Mind your own business in future and concentrate on our daughter, she’s the most important one in your life; she and Pepper.”

She folds her arms across her chest and she just stares at him for a moment.

“Don’t be a dick because despite public opinion, it doesn’t really suit you.” She pauses, anger still burning inside of her.  “You’ve moved on with your life, you remarried and maybe in the future you’ll have more children. What I won’t do is sit around and wait for someone to notice me, someone that you deign to be worthy of me because believe it or not, your opinion of me isn’t that important.”

She spins around and storms away.

* * *

 

Steve discovers Bucky leaning up against a tree and he’s staring up at the night sky.

“Hey,” he murmurs. Bucky’s head snaps around in his direction and then away again but not before Steve sees how he surreptitiously swipes at his eyes. He approaches him and pauses a short distance away.

“I didn’t know about the fireworks Buck, if I had, I woulda stopped it.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, just keeps on staring up at the night sky but Steve can hear his ragged breathing.

“Where was Jess heading off to in an all-fired hurry?” he asks. Bucky doesn’t answer, just keeps staring up at the night sky.

“You and Jess have a fight?” he asks instead.

Still no response but Steve can see the moonlight reflected in his friend’s eyes, the suspicious gleam.

“I sent her away.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Said who?”

“Everyone.” He turns his head once more and looks at Steve. “Face it, I was always punchin’ way above my weight with her and after everything…I can’t put her through that.”

He hears Steve sigh.

“Buck, you don’t know that. I saw her kiss you on the dance floor. Everyone did. You have a chance to be happy so why not take it?”

Bucky just shakes his head. He then takes a deep breath.

“What are you doin’ here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with your new wife?”

“Your goddaughter came and got me. Peggy understands.”

“She knows what I’m going through?” He can’t keep the derision out of his voice and he straightens up.

“No one knows what you went through Bucky because you refuse to talk about it. Maybe you’ve shared an occasional thing with Jess but she’s never broken any confidences.” He holds Bucky’s gaze. “Talk to her man, you won’t get over this feeling, not without talking to her.”

Bucky shoves his hands into the front pocket of his pants. All of a sudden he’s exhausted. He just slowly shakes his head.

“I’m gonna go, I think it’d be best if I do.”

“Aw man, don’t do that. Stay. Talk it out with Jess. She’ll listen to you, you know she will.”

Once more Bucky shakes his head.

“Then walk with me and I’ll call you a cab.”

“Okay,” Bucky agrees.

* * *

 

Bucky sees Jess waiting outside of the building. She’s holding onto Olivia’s hand and Bucky realises that she’s waiting for the valet to appear with her car. There’s no expression on her face as they regard each other. Bucky’s heart clenches when he sees Olivia’s eyes light up upon seeing him and she pulls her hand out of her mother’s and runs towards him. She flings herself into his arms and without thinking, he hauls her up and feels her arms slide around his neck and hold him tightly. He’s surrounded by her and he feels a lump form in his throat.

“Uncle J,” she breathes and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“Hey munchkin,” he whispers back, his voice a little hoarse as he lowers her to her feet. Olivia looks up at him with worried dark brown eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Bucky attempts to smile.

“I will be.” He crouches down. “Thank you for alerting your mom and Uncle Steve earlier. I guess today has been a really busy day and things got a little bit too much for me.  I’m very tired so I’m gonna go home now, get some sleep.” He holds onto one of her hands.

“Mom could take you home,” Olivia suggests, turning her head to look at her mother, eyes still wide. “You could, couldn’t you?”

Bucky raises his head and watches Jess approach them both.

“I could.” Her voice is soft, husky and Bucky swallows, unable to take his eyes off her. He lets go of Olivia’s hand and slowly gets to his feet.

“A cab is already on its way,” he replies. “But thanks for the offer.”

“That’s fine,” Jess answers gently and Bucky turns when he hears the sound of a vehicle approaching and he lets go of Olivia’s hand.

“Here’s your ride,” he tells her and she watches as he takes a step back.

She waits as her car stops in front of her and the valet exits. She doesn’t look his way even though she wants to with every atom of her being. Her whole body tingles with awareness as she accepts her keys, tips the valet and then opens the rear door. She watches Olivia climb in, eyes burning. She remains still as she buckles herself in before she slams the door shut and goes to the driver’s door and opens it. She’s shaking by the time she gets in. It’s once she’s buckled in and ready to go that she sneaks a look in the side mirror.

Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's after the wedding. Jess goes to see Bucky and there's no going back for either of them. 
> 
> Warnings for smut. 
> 
> First time of writing so apologies in advance...

**Eleven:**

He’s tired and nowhere near as drunk as he wants to be. He’s already checked his liquor cabinet; it’s empty. Steve must’ve taken the bottle of Johnnie Walker he’d been working his way through, the son of a bitch. He feels the craving take hold, uncurl from the pit of his stomach and stretch its tentacles throughout his body. He’s been on his best behaviour today at the wedding, sticking to the champagne that was on offer and not touching anything stronger than that though Christ knows he wanted to, escorting Amy was an ordeal he’s thankful he’ll no longer have to do. She may be Peggy’s best friend but Bucky found her to be a pill.

He stands in his bedroom and slowly undresses, carefully removing his tuxedo. He’s tempted to just leave it draped over the chair that occupies his room for no other purpose than to be a prop for his various items of clothing but he doesn’t want Jess on his case, castigating him for his untidiness. He pauses in the task of unbuttoning his shirt; _Jess._ He’s told her not to come around anymore, to concentrate on being Olivia’s mom and to let him look after himself. No matter what he had said to Tony, what Tony said to him stays with him, burrowing under his skin with its little sticky sharp barbs. He doesn’t want her forever rescuing him from whatever trouble he manages to get himself into but God he wants her with everything inside of him. He frowns at the ache that seems to emanate from his chest and he rubs at it with the heel of his right hand. Emotion threatens to choke him and for a moment his vision blurs.

He takes a shaky breath and continues to unbutton his damned shirt, peeling it off and draping it across the bottom of his bed. He turns his head to the side and catches a glimpse of the white and pink scars that stripe his back in the mirror beside his bed and he makes himself look at them. He’s spent all of his time and all of his energy since returning Stateside ignoring them and maybe it’s time that he starts to address why. Maybe he should go and see Steve’s friend and start talking about it, unburden himself and share it with someone else, someone who can relate to what he’s been through, but no sooner does the thought enter his mind then he discards it, feeling the first threads of anxiety snake through him at the thought of physically opening his mouth and telling someone what happened to him in that hell hole.

He looks away from his reflection and continues to undress, stripping off the pants, rescuing his phone from one of the pockets, holding it in his hand and staring at it.

Maybe he could call Jess and they could talk. Just the sound of her voice is enough to calm him most times.

He then shakes his head and dumps the phone on the bed beside the tux. No. He has to start living his life without her in it.

But he doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

Maybe he could call one of his old girlfriends; Christie, Jane, Tiffany but once more he discards the notion. A quick fuck and cab fare home in the morning is not the connection he’s looking for and his mind flashes back to Jess; dancing with her at the wedding to the Mamas and Papas song, seeing how she looked at him, remembering how he was feeling. That kiss. The second kiss.

Fuck.

He wants her; he wants Jess tonight.

And he can’t have her.

* * *

 

“So, how was the wedding?” Natasha enquires and Jess shrugs as she sucks the olives from her martini off the cocktail stick and chews absently on them.

“Like most weddings; romantic, beautiful and expensive, take your pick.” She continues to look down at her drink and ignores the heavy weight that’s taken up residence in her chest.

“And the best man?”

Another shrug. “He was the best of best mans…or men…or…whatever.”

“God Jess, your enthusiasm is really overwhelming,” Natasha continues, her tone dry as dust and this time Jess makes eye contact and sees the smile that tilts the corner of her friend’s mouth.

“What’s wrong?” she asks with a sigh. Jess regards her for a moment and then lifts her martini glass to her lips and takes a drink.

“What makes you think that there’s something wrong?” she asks as she places the glass back on the bar surface.

“Because thanks to my job I haven’t seen you for three months and when we do catch up you’re always full of chatter; whether it’s about Olivia, Tony or Bucky and so far I think I’ve heard you say maybe a dozen words and the wedding was last weekend, Olivia was a bridesmaid and I haven’t seen so much as a photograph.”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Natasha sits forward, her green-grey eyes earnest. “That’s harsh Jess, I’m always interested in you.”

Jess shifts on her bar stool and her eyes take in the interior of the smart bar they’re sitting in, the décor, the music, the fashionably well-dressed clientele. It’s all very discreet and just so. Bucky would stand out like a sore thumb in a place like this; he’s strictly a beer and jeans bar kinda guy.

She and Natasha have been friends since high school, almost best friends. Natasha was always the lone wolf type; she was popular but at the same time particular about the kind of friends she cultivated and kept and Jess feels fortunate that she chose her to be on her list. Natasha worked for Tony for a little while before heading off elsewhere, she travels a lot within her line of work, kept deliberately vague, so Jess always makes time to see her when she’s in town.

“I kissed Bucky,” she admits and waits for Natasha’s reaction. All she does is widen her eyes slightly as she takes a sip of her own drink.

“Oh I’m sorry, were you expecting me to be horror struck or something?” she enquires as she replaces her glass.

Jess exhales.

“I kissed Bucky twice,” she informs her.

“Don’t blame you, I would too given half the chance,” Natasha retorts and this time Jess rolls her eyes.

“Of course you would,” she mutters.

“What? Under all that hair he’s a handsome guy, gorgeous blue eyes.”

“Then why not make a play for him yourself, ask him out?”

“Believe me I’ve tried; at Olivia’s baptism and got absolutely nowhere with him. I even tried a couple of times afterwards, when he got back home, after he got published, always with the same result. He was polite but it was always the same; thanks but no thanks. I guess he’s just not into me.”

Jess smiles and rolls her eyes at the same time. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.” Natasha is beautiful with eye catching red hair in a chin length smooth bob, cheekbones, pale porcelain skin, full lips and arresting green eyes with a hint of grey in them. She turns heads wherever she goes.

Natasha smiles to herself at the compliment and gives a one shouldered shrug.

“It’s the truth. He isn’t interested in me, never has been and never will be.” She flicks another look Jess’s way, “Not when he only has eyes for you,” she continues, a touch slyly and once more Jess’s eyes widen with shock.

“For me?” she breathes and then shakes her head. “Back then? You’re wrong. He wasn’t interested in me then,” she whispers, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush.

“Of course he was. He’s always been interested in you.”

“But he never…”

“Said or did anything? Because you were Tony’s girl, his _wife_. Other guys would’ve tried anything and everything to attract your attention and I’ve seen guys try to at dinners and social functions we attended together when I was in town but Bucky respected that you were married to Tony and never stepped over the line.” She watches how Jess’s eyes go wide with realisation.

“Tony said pretty much the same thing at the reception, I just thought he was being an asshole.” She gives her head a little shake. “You’re sure?” she continues and sees the level look Natasha sends her and huffs out a sigh, “Of course you’re sure. Damn it.”

“Is that a good damn it or a bad damn it?”  Natasha enquires and it’s Jess’s turn to send a level look as she drains her martini glass.

“If it’s a good damn it you should go and see him,” Natasha advises. Jess just shakes her head, attracting the bar tender’s attention with a wiggle of her fingers. He looks her way and nods when she points to their glasses and indicates for two more.

“Why not?”

“Because if I did that then he’ll send me away again. He’s rejected me twice.”

“Twice? I’m not blind Jess, Bucky is into you, _really_ into you, why would he reject you?”

Their two drinks arrive and she pushes a bill over and watches the bartender pick it up and head to the cash register. He turns with the change in his hand and Jess shakes her head, indicating he should keep it and is rewarded by his smile of thanks.

“The first time, I’m not sure. The second time because Tony said something to him at the wedding reception. Like I said before, he was being an asshole,” She sighs, resting her chin on her hand.

“I hope you told him to mind his own business?”

Jess flicks a look her way. “And some,” she confirms and is rewarded by Natasha’s grin.

“You should go and see Bucky one more time. Go tonight.  Tell him that you’re into him too. You _are_ into him, aren’t you?”

Jess picks up her fresh glass and takes a sip of her drink and she nods. Since their kisses, plural, at the wedding, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Seeing him in a much more different light makes her stomach tremble, her heart flutter. If feels like she's experiencing a Hallmark movie inside of her head and it unsettles her a little.

“I’m afraid that it’ll change things between us and I couldn’t stand to lose him from my life if it all goes to shit and it very well could. He still has…issues from what happened to him over there.” She frowns slightly, her tongue swiping her lower lip as she replaces the glass.

“He still won’t talk about that?”

Jess slowly shakes her head. “And the more I push, the deeper he digs himself in. He either can’t or won’t bring himself to remember.”

“I don’t blame him, something as traumatic as being held prisoner of war for three years, I wouldn’t want to talk about it either. You should go and see him, go right now and talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

“I don’t know how I feel, Nat.”

“How you feel right now then.”

Jess gives a shake of her head. “I’m here to see you not him.”

“It’s fine. I’m beat and heading back to my hotel anyway. Go on. You’ll regret it if you leave it any later.” She smiles at her.

“You really think I should?”

“I really do. Go and get him tiger!” she laughs when Jess drains her drink and then stands up. She straightens the skirt of the dress that she wears and reaches for her purse.

“If this all goes to hell, I’m blaming you,” she tells her friend, pressing a hand against her stomach to try and quell the butterflies that have suddenly made an appearance.

“It won’t, you’ll be fine,” Natasha predicts with familiar confidence.

* * *

 

Bucky is stretched out on the couch, an arm tucked behind his head, a book propped open on his upturned knees when he hears the gentle tap on his front door. He turns his head and listens, every sense coming to life and he goes very still. A second tap follows. He closes the book and lays it on the floor beside him. He gets to his feet and heads to the door, bare feet slapping quietly on the wooden floor. He peeks through the spy hole and his eyes widen when he sees Jess standing there. He unlocks the door and opens it and just stares at her in surprise.

“Hey…” he breathes.

She offers him a tentative smile.

“If I said I was in the neighbourhood, would you believe me?” she asks, her voice quiet and shy.

“Dressed like that? Not a chance in hell.” He takes in her short skin tight black cocktail dress that hugs every curve like a second skin. She looks down at her outfit and then back at him, tucking an errant strand of hair behind one ear and he sees the long sparkling earring that spins and dances in response.

“I've wanted to see you so many times since the wedding but I was afraid that you’d send me away again.”

“Jess…”

“No… please...listen. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…the kiss at the wedding…the _kisses_ I mean and… I’m into you Bucky, I’m really into you and I thought you felt the same way too.” She doesn’t tell him of Natasha’s suspicions and when she sees how his eyes go wide and how he swallows, she thinks maybe her friend was right.

“I want us to be together Buck. Don’t send me away. Please.” Her voice lowers huskily. Bucky sighs quietly.

“You know I’m not good for you Jess. I’m not good for anyone the way that I am. I’ll only break your heart, or worse…”

“Let me be the judge of that.” She takes a step closer to him.  “Do you know how long it’s been since a guy kissed me like you did? Any guy? Five _years_ ,” she whispers. He remains still, feet rooted to the floor but he can feel his heart begin a slow thick pound in his breast and his traitorous dick grow heavy and hard at the revelation.

“I know Tony said something to you and to be honest, I don’t care what he said. It’s none of his business what I do in my own time. It’s none of his business who I want to spend time with, who I want to kiss or…” Her voice trails away and she looks into his eyes, biting her lower lip. His gaze drops down to her mouth as she does so and she sees him lick his lips almost nervously. He then takes a breath and moves closer to her, sliding his left arm around her waist and he lifts her off her feet and into his apartment, turning, closing the door behind him.

He stares into her eyes. He can hear his inner voice screaming at him to not do this. That it’s a bad idea. To send her away.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice quiet. “Do you want me to kiss you or…” He leaves the rest of the question hanging.

“I want you to make love to me Bucky…” she whispers and his eyes slowly widen at her invitation. He closes his eyes for a moment.

_Bad idea. Bad bad BAD idea…_

“Jesus. Please God don’t let me have fallen asleep on the couch again,” he mutters. She’s pressed up against him. She’s warm skin. She’s blue eyes. She’s his heart’s desire. The scent of her perfume drifts over him. He can feel himself weakening, wanting to give in to her.

“Does this feel like you’ve fallen asleep on the couch?” she enquires, her hand sliding into the waistband of the sweats that he wears and she cups him, caressing his treacherously hard cock. His eyes open as he swallows down a gasp and barely bites back a groan and just shakes his head.

_Oh shit._

_May Day, Maaayyy Daaayy!!!_

His brain is screaming.

“You gotta be sure Jess…” he whispers.

_Ignores the screaming. She’s here in his arms. He’s ignoring the screaming._

“Are you?” she counters. Feels himself give in, utterly.

_She wants him and God knows he wants her. He’s always wanted her and here’s his chance._

“Christ, yeah but…”

“Then I’m sure too Bucky,” she tells him. “Listen, you know me. I’m not some delicate little blossom that will wilt at the first sign of trouble. I’m not drunk or high. I want you, I want you to take me to bed and fuck me. Hard,” she instructs, her voice lowering.

She’s staring at him with wide _don’t you-dare-argue-with-me_ eyes and he lowers his head and claims her mouth in a kiss and there’s nothing gentle or thoughtful about it. His tongue invades her mouth and he pulls her closer to him. She winds her arms around his neck, moulding herself to him as he does so and he can taste alcohol on her tongue, vodka if he’s not mistaken and he seems to remember, in his lust hazed state that she only drinks martinis when she’s with Natasha Romanoff. He pushes that thought to the back of his mind as somehow they head into the living room, excitement making them blind, need making them desperate. Melded together, hands grasping, smoothing over hot skin. No sounds apart from their kisses, breath heaving from their lungs.

The back of his legs make contact with the couch and he sways to a halt. Jess stands in front of him and to him she looks magnificent, her skirt pushed up to the tops of her thighs, long and lean with those sky scraper heels on her feet. He stares at her, his heart drumming in his chest. Hard. Body aching for her and for a moment they look at each other. The air feels heavy, thrumming with tension.

“Gonna ask you one more time…”

“Shut up Buck,” she tells him and she gives him a gentle shove. He lands on the sofa with a gentle thump, eyes blinking in surprise. He then looks up at her. Watches as she kicks off her shoes, hears them skitter away across the floor. She then drops her purse on his chest.

“Inside,” she tells him and watches as he zips it open and looks inside. Retrieves a pack of condoms. Looks back up at her and he smiles.

“That’s how sure I am.”

His breath stills in his throat as he watches her step out of her underwear.

Reaches behind her and he hears the hiss of a zip being slowly drawn down, the neckline loosening but remaining in place.

* * *

 

He still doesn’t move as she crawls up the length of his body but his left hand slides up her thigh to rest at her hip. His eyes slide shut as he feels her hands frame his face as she claims her kiss. His hold tightens slightly as she lowers her weight down onto him.

His right hand slowly slides upwards, beneath the hem of her dress and across her thigh and he pauses. Against his mouth she whimpers and she slowly flexes her hip against the outline of his erection.  His heart booms in his chest and he moans against her mouth as he touches her, feels the heat of her. He gently slides two fingers inside her and feels how she responds, pulling her mouth from his, his name barely a whisper as she rolls her hips, riding his hand.

“Jess…” he whispers and with his other hand he draws her head back down. Kisses her some more, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst and then draws back just a millimetre and she blinks at him in confusion

For a moment they just stare at each other.

A subtle tilt of her head.  “Don’t you dare, Barnes,” she whispers as if reading his mind.

“Not gonna,” he murmurs back and kisses her once more as if to prove his point. The tips of his fingers circling her clit, applying just enough pressure to make her shiver.

“God, Bucky,” she gasps, arching against him. “I’m gonna…I want you… inside me… _now_ …” Those last words are barely a whisper as her eyes go wide and he feels how tense she goes, that she’s almost there by how blown her pupils are, the flush of her cheeks.

“Now…” she gently hisses and he doesn’t need to be told twice. He carefully removes his fingers and she lifts her hips His head is singing with lust as he finds the box that’s slid onto the cushion beside him and with shaking, uncooperative fingers, opens it, taking out a condom. He glances at her as she takes it from him and watches her tear open the packet. She leans towards him and presses a single warm kiss on his mouth that has his eyes sliding shut, lost in her again. They open again as he feels her move off him and sees her reaching for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down.

His mouth is dry and he watches with almost wide eyed fascination as she carefully slides the condom onto him. 

“You ready?” Her voice is low, intimate. He reaches for her, taking her hand and he hauls her towards him. She all but collapses onto his lap and she chuckles as she straddles across him. He reaches behind and feels for the zipper of her dress, finding it and pulling it all the way down and then peels the bodice away from her upper body. She’s wearing a flimsy looking scrap of black lace. He watches as she reaches back and unhooks it and it falls to the floor. His eyes take her in before he makes eye contact again and a smile warms his eyes.

“Now I am,” he murmurs back.

* * *

 

It’s hard and it’s fast and Jess matches him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. She gives as good as she gets, fingers digging into muscle, straddled across him, giving him a magnificent view of her breasts as she rides him unabashedly, driving herself to cum, thighs gripping him, the musk of fast unrepentant raw sex filling the air. He feels his own release pulse close to the surface, grips onto her waist as he hammers up into her, chasing it, wanting it and then feeling it burst from him. Hears her cry out, head back, feels her throb around his cock as she falls, hips flexing, breath heaving, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his t-shirt. For a moment there’s silence apart from the sound of their heavy breathing. Watches her eyes slowly slide open and look down at him, a little dazed, a whole lot shell shocked. Her skin is flushed, cheeks rosy, hair sticking to her face, to her neck. Make up long gone now. Then a smile tilts her lips and she lowers her head and kisses him. He tastes salt and his hand comes to the back of her neck, fingers burying themselves into the strands of hair. A moment or two pass as they each try to catch their breath before she lifts her head and looks into his eyes. Bucky gently reaches up and he kisses her and draws her down to him and he holds her close. His throat feels all of a sudden thick and emotion clogs his chest and he feels her head nestle against the curve of his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just holds her against him and allows the silence of the room to wash over them both.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before. 
> 
> Warnings for more of the smutty stuff....

**Twelve:**

She wakes up to an empty bed and for a moment it confuses her. She reaches across and brushes her palm over the sheet and feels the last vestiges of warmth there so he hasn’t been out of bed for long. She turns her head and lifts herself up onto her elbows as she hears the quiet creak of door hinges and sees him coming into the room. He’s carrying two cups and he smiles when he realises that she’s awake. She pulls herself up into a semi reclined position, leaning up against the headboard of his bed and she softly smiles as he approaches her, placing both cups onto his bedside cabinet.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, sliding back into bed. He’s wearing underwear as well as the t-shirt this time and she catches a glimpse of long legs before they disappear beneath the sheets.

“Good morning,” she murmurs back and watches as he turns to retrieve one of the cups which he carefully hands to her, stealing a soft kiss before reaching for his own.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks.

“I’m fine Buck, no regrets if that’s what you’re asking.”

There’s a brief silence.

“I guess I was. You were out with Natasha last night.”

“What gave me away?” she asks, watching as he stretches out beside her.

He turns his head when he hears the amusement in her voice and smiles when he sees the twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh I dunno. I’m thinking it may have been the fuck me black cocktail dress you were wearing when you showed up on my doorstep or the fuck me harder five inch stilettos that were on your feet, I’m not exactly sure.”

“Well you certainly did that. Three times,” she all but chuckles feeling her cheeks flush at the memory. She’s also remembering facing the bottom of his bed, her breasts in his hands, his long dexterous fingers plucking and stroking her nipples as she gripped the foot board while he fucked her into knee trembling satisfaction. She shuffles a little when she feels her centre threaten to turn liquid at the memory of just how satisfying it was. As far as she knows, the dress is now in a pile on the floor somewhere in the living room along with her underwear and shoes. Her memory went a little hazy after he dragged her into his apartment.

She sees his little smile at that. He looks at her again.

“And you’d been drinking martinis. You only ever drink martinis when you’re with Natasha Romanoff hence the dress and the shoes.”

“I’m going to have to wear them when I go home, if I can find them. Everyone is gonna know what I’ve been up to and I don’t care.” she comments.

“I’ll take you home later so don’t worry. I take it the munchkin is with her dad?”

“Spending the weekend with him and Pepper. He’s taking the days off and driving them to the beach house for those days. Olivia has a week left in school before the summer vacation and Tony and Pepper will be taking her with them to Europe. Part business and part family vacation.”

“So you’ll be all alone?”

She looks at him and she nods. “I’m used to it though and I won’t be bored. I’ll be making sure you finish your book and we have to begin to organise publicity for the release of your upcoming one as well as the MacPherson thing.” She sees how he grimaces.

“Steve was hoping to persuade you to perhaps doing one or two promotional book signings in the city for number three, nothing more than that.”

Bucky frowns and sighs. “I don’t know….”

“We’re not talking about hosting talks where you’d discuss your motivation as an author or talk about anything personal, we know that all of that is private. Just meet a few of your fans in a bookstore, sign their names in copies of your book, smile at them and they move along.” She knows if he agrees to it, they’ll be popular. He’s always resisted the idea and even though his rescue was widely reported at the time, he’s never spoken publicly about it and this hint of mystery usually helps to drive sales up. He doesn’t do face to face interview for television or print press because he’s afraid they’ll ask him about his experiences as a prisoner of war. They tried during the press tour for the first book and it ended disastrously when one or two tried to prise some delicate information out of him that he wasn’t prepared to discuss.

“Just think about it. If you really don’t want to do it, let me know and I’ll talk to Steve once he gets back from honeymoon.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs. She notices that the slight frown still hasn’t dissipated but it’s all that she can ask for, that he’ll think about it.

“Hey,” she tells him, making him look at her again. She reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to decide right now. I’m free til tomorrow evening when Tony will bring Olivia back, what do you want to do til then?”

She watches the sombre expression melt away and he turns away to place his cup on his bedside table once more before returning his attention to her, doing the same, taking her cup from her and placing it beside his. He then turns on his side and regards her and she recognises the gleam in his eye and it makes her slowly smile. He reaches for her, drawing her towards him, rolling onto his back again.

“You,” he answers with a devilish smile, his eyes never leaving hers as she straddles across his hips as naked as the day she was born.

“So do me,” she invites and her eyes slide shut when she feels his hands cover her breasts, the metal of his left chill against her skin, thumbs stroking over both nipples, teasing them stiff. She sighs softly, flexing her hips against his erection as he then draws her down and strokes them with his tongue, setting off a deeper pulsating ache inside of her. He then slides down the mattress, nudging her thighs a little further apart and he dives straight in, tongue licking a stripe up her slit before delving inside. She moans as she leans forward to grab onto the bedstead, feeling his tongue work it’s magic, gently teasing her clit, sucking on that tiny bundle of nerves which makes her stiffen and gasp at the feelings that fire through her veins. He then changes tactics, his mouth becoming more demanding, bringing her to a sudden hard orgasm that has her crying out, his hands holding her thighs still while she cums against his tongue, hears him quietly moan. He pulls away while she’s still coming down, heart banging in her chest, breathing ragged. She sees him grab a condom out of the box beside his coffee cup and he’s behind her once more. She feels the fingers of one hand gently trace their way up the back of her thigh, two fingers slowly sliding into her, gently stroking her. She’s still gasping for air as she hears him tear the package open and then after a moment, his right arm goes around her waist and he adjusts her position slightly before he’s sliding inside of her, slowly thrusting into her wetness, both hands gently cradling her hips, creating such a delicious friction that she feels her body begin to tighten as he begins to increase his speed, hips snapping, plunging harder. She feels herself goes hot, moaning aloud, feeling sweat pop out over her skin, can hear him grunt as he thrusts hard. Her fingers tighten around the wooden bedstead and she’s urging him on, her voice low and breathless before she’s cumming again, squeezing against his cock and shouting his name louder, her voice echoing around the room as the bed shakes and clatters against the wall from the strength of his thrusts. Hears him swear, his fingers tight on her hips and he holds her still as his own orgasm renders him immobile. Neither of them can move for a moment or two once it’s over, still joined together, breathing heavily, seeing stars. He carefully slides out of her, lies down onto his belly beside her and he draws her into his arms. Holds her tight against him. She clings to him, her body still pulsating, tiny shockwaves rippling through her entire nervous system. That he can make her feel like this surprises her a little. Maybe she thought the sex would be a one night thing, something she could blame on the alcohol but she’s quickly realised that she can’t do that, she doesn’t want to do that. They’re a good fit. Maybe an even better fit than she could ever have hoped to realise. And she wants more.

* * *

 

She can’t find her panties so she’s feeling a little bit exposed as she walks into her house, the heels of her shoes clicking on the marble floor. Behind her Bucky closes the front door and follows her inside.

“I forgot how big this place is with just the two of you rattling around inside of it,” he murmurs as he follows her into the kitchen. She drops her purse onto the nearest counter and pauses to pull off her shoes, giving him a perfect view of her long legs and bare skin.

“The house came with the divorce and Olivia loves it so I’m kinda stuck with it,” she replies, holding the footwear between a couple of fingers. She then turns to look at him more fully.

“I’m going upstairs to shower and change. Stay here, I can barely walk straight as it is,” she tells him in a low intimate voice and presses a kiss against the emerging smile that lights up his face.

“Okay,” he replies obediently and it’s her turn to smile.

“Make some coffee while I’m busy, I won’t be long,” she promises.

* * *

 

She makes her way to her bedroom, a shower the uppermost thing in her mind. They’ve been out of bed barely an hour and she still aches in tender places. She heads into her en suite bathroom and switches on the shower and stands in the medium sized room and strips off her dress and bra, leaving them in a heap on the floor. The shower is hot and she quietly sighs as she feels the water pummel against her skin.

She dries herself down and dresses in a pale blue cotton dress, rubbing her hair with a towel and pulling her fingers through the strands. She sorts through the purse she took out with her last night and checks her phone and sees the texts from Natasha.

**_‘How’s things? Did he send you home?’_**  One message enquires and Jess softly smiles to herself.

**_‘Well judging by your silence, you’re either sobbing into your pillow or having the best sex of your life. Text me.’_** Best sex of her life? Quite possibly or it could just be the shine of a new relationship. Isn’t the sex the best ever in the earliest of days? Well she’s not exactly super-experienced in that arena so can’t draw a definitive conclusion but what she’s shared with Bucky has been pretty damn special so far.

Jess continues to smile and sends her friend a quick text. **_‘He didn’t send me away and I just got home. Make of that what you will. Talk soon’._**

Natasha’s response is almost instantaneous. **_‘Lucky bitch.’_**

Jess chuckles and plugs her phone in to charge. Lucky bitch indeed.

* * *

 

Bucky is sitting at the table in the kitchen, a coffee cup by his elbow and he’s slowly flipping through a newspaper. He lifts his head and looks at her and he softly smiles as she approaches him.

“You weren’t kidding, that didn’t take long at all,” he murmurs as she comes to sit beside him. She looks down at the newspaper page and a jolt of surprise goes through her when she sees the photograph of Bucky adorning it. It’s from the publication of his first novel. He’s holding it in one hand, his left shoved into the front pocket of his jeans. He’s not quite smiling but she recognises the trepidation in his eyes as he faces the press who all wanted a picture of this brand new author and former prisoner of war.  She takes in the headline proclaiming that the reclusive bestselling author James Barnes has agreed to attend the prestigious MacPherson Literary Awards in a couple of weeks’ time and she hears his quiet sigh of resignation.

“Well, I guess it’s official. I’m goin’ to the MacPherson thing,” Bucky murmurs as he closes the newspaper. Jess looks at him.

“It’s not set in stone, you’re allowed to change your mind,” she reminds him.

“I know but I made a promise, to you and to Steve so I’m gonna go. At least you’ll be with me.” He slides a hand across the table and captures one of her hands and he lifts it, turning it at the last moment and presses a kiss on her palm, his beard soft against her skin. She looks at him, into those grey blue eyes. Right now they’re as blue as the sky outside and warm with a smile. She lifts her other hand and gently touches the side of his face and she leans towards him and kisses him, her heart hitching as he responds, letting go of her hand, drawing her out of her seat and close to him. Her heart is banging against her ribs as eventually she pulls away.

“What are we doing, Bucky?” she whispers and sees the look of confusion that flits across his face.

“Well I _was_ kissing you….”

She shakes her head, “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean you and me. This. Us.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. I’m just…scared,” she confesses. “What if it all goes wrong and we crash and burn? We’re friends Bucky, we’ve been friends for such a long time that I don’t think I could cope if you weren’t in my life somewhere.”

Bucky looks at her for the longest moment, the humour leaching out of his eyes. “I’m scared too,” he admits in a low voice. “Which is why I think we should take this slow, one day at a time or whatever the phrase is. Keep it just between you and me for now.”

“Natasha already knows.”

“And I’m sure she’ll keep it to herself if you ask her to. We don’t need any outside complications interferin’ in things and that way I’m sure we can figure stuff out.”

“Outside complications meaning Tony.”

Bucky sighs, “Yeah. He was a bit of a dick at the wedding,” he confesses and sees the expression that crosses her face.

“I’ve spoken to him. He crossed a line and eventually he’ll realise it. He just needs a little time to figure it out.” Her voice is low and he can hear a hint of anger in it. She presses a kiss on his mouth.   “And we can’t tell Olivia yet. She utterly adores you and it will break her heart if we tell her now and if for whatever reason, it doesn’t work out…”

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice is low and she regards him. “Don’t go lookin’ for problems baby, let’s just see where this ride will take us. At least we have one thing goin’ in our favour and that’s the fact that we already know each other, so no awkward silences at dinner or anythin’ like that. Let’s just see where it all takes us.” His voice lowers to a whisper and he kisses her, silencing her doubts. She melts into him, arms sliding around his neck.

“I know right now I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers against her lips and she feels his right hand slide beneath the skirt of her dress and gently trace the naked skin of her thigh, sliding slowly upwards, dancing and tracing with infinite delicacy.

“Same,” she murmurs back, widening her legs slightly, feeling his fingertips tease her damp cloth covered core and then edge beneath the hem of her panties and she feels two fingers trace her slit and then slide into her, slowly pumping in and out of her. She can barely bite back a moan, her hands gripping onto his shoulders as her hips roll against his fingers.

“Damn it Bucky,” she hisses, her hips trembling and her eyes slide shut. She takes a breath and opens them and she sees the expression in his eyes. The pupils are blown, showing just a ring of blue grey. She lowers her head, briefly ghosting her lips over his, hearing his gentle hiss before she slides her tongue between his lips and she gives a shaky sigh as he increases the pressure of his questing fingers very slightly and she feels darts of sensation burst through her as he pays attention to her clit. His eyes observe her every expression as she presses herself against his fingers, wanting more and feeling like she’s about to explode.

“C’mon. Bed,” she whispers against his mouth.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff. 
> 
> Bucky and Olivia go on their promised pizza outing.

**Thirteen:**

“This was such a great idea!”

Bucky smiles at Olivia’s enthusiasm as he takes a sip of his strawberry milkshake.

“It’s been far too long since we last did this, kiddo,” he responds as he replaces the paper cup on the Formica table that separates them. Olivia grins at him as she takes a bite of her thin crust sausage and mushroom pizza.

“We need to make it a regular thing, like we used to. I know you’re busy though,” she reminds him as she chews.

Bucky nods in agreement. “I’m never too busy for you.” He then slowly smiles, “and what does your mom always tell you…don’t talk with your mouth full,” he teases. He scoops up a slice of pizza, folds it over and takes a bite, feeling his appetite kick in as he begins to eat.

He used to bring Olivia to this place almost weekly when she was younger. His first book was out and selling well and he had some money in the bank again. Oh the army paid in three years’ worth of back pay once he came home, almost as compensation for what happened to him and various lawyers had been quick enough to remind him that he was entitled to so much more if he sued the military for what he went through but he wasn’t interested. They thought he was dead and the moment they realised that he wasn’t, they came and got him. He wasn’t interested in extracting a pound of flesh. It won’t change anything. He’s alive. He has a life now, one he never envisaged having again. After living under the threat of execution at any point during his imprisonment and at one point almost being executed, he’s not interested in anything that he considers blood or guilt money. He has his new career, his books, his writing, his family as well as Jess and Olivia and he never thought in a million years he’d be with Jess the way that he is now. He’s as happy as he’s ever likely to be and for him that’s enough.

He looks at his goddaughter.

“When are you heading off on your vacation?” he enquires.

“Saturday. We’re going to France first, Paris. Pepper says it’ll help expand my cultural experiences visiting The Louvre and Versailles and places like that.”

“And will it?”

Olivia shrugs.

“You know, your mom went to Paris once, before you were born, with your dad. I think it wasn’t long after his company became successful and she loved it. She told me that she could’ve spent the entire vacation in the Louvre alone. I still have her postcards somewhere telling me all about it.” He watches her eyes go round with wonder.

“She doesn’t talk about her time with dad all that much,” Olivia confides and privately Bucky isn’t surprised. He knows why but Tony is still Olivia’s dad so doesn’t share.

“But they’re friends, a lot of divorced parents aren’t.”

“She was mad at him at Uncle Steve’s wedding for some reason though. Do you know why?”

Bucky picks up his milkshake again. Again, he does know why but he doesn’t think it’s suitable for an eight year old’s ears. He just shakes his head.

“Grown ups get mad at other grown ups sometimes. Your mom gets mad at me a lot which should tell you something. Sometimes we can be idiots.”

“I know,” Olivia replies with a certainty that surprises him and then again it doesn’t. She’s a smart girl.

“So where else are your dad and Pepper taking you on your big European trip?” he asks instead and sees how his goddaughter smiles, how her eyes sparkle.

“London, Madrid, Rome and maybe Zurich and Berlin.”

Bucky makes a show of widening his eyes in admiration. “Wow, that’s some trip! Be sure to buy your mom some postcards.”

“But I’ll just text her or email her,” Olivia replies, a little puzzled.

“I know but pick her up a couple of postcards at each destination You don’t have to write anything on them, just collect a few and give them to her when you get back, she'll love them, i promise.”

He sees how her eyes brighten with understanding. “That’s a really good idea!” she breathes.

Bucky smiles and shrugs one shoulder self-deprecatingly “You know, I do have them once in a while,” he replies with a false modesty that makes her chuckle.

“C’mon, finish your pizza. I promised your mom I’d get you home before midnight, Cinderella,” he teases. Again she giggles but it fades when something catches her eye. Bucky frowns at the change of expression and looks over his left shoulder and sighs.

“God…” He swallows down the rest of the epithet when he sees Tiffany walking towards their table, how her eyes light up on seeing him. Quickly Bucky wipes his fingers and his mouth on his napkin and fixes Olivia with a look.

“Stay here and finish your pizza. I won’t be long,” he tells her and gets to his feet.

* * *

Tiffany is a drunken bar pick up that he’s never been quite able to shake off. Short, with red curly hair and green eyes and a knock out figure if Jessica Rabbit curves and Anna Nicole Smith tits and a single digit intellect are your thing. He didn’t choose her for her sparkling wit and conversation and if he’s to be absolutely truthful, she wasn’t all that special in the sack either or maybe he wasn’t but it was a one off that he has no intention of repeating but it’s a pity she won’t get the message.

“Hey Bucky baby,” she breathes, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her body up against his. He inhales a lungful of unknown but overpowering powder sweet perfume that makes his eyes water a little with its smothering qualities. “Who’s the kid? Is she yours?”  She has a breathy sounding little girl voice that Bucky thinks is trying to emulate Marilyn Monroe but it’s not quite getting there. Carefully he removes her arms from around his neck and takes a half step back.

“No, she’s not my kid. She’s my goddaughter.”

He sees her eyes widen. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a goddaughter.”

“Well now you do. Whaddaya want Tiffany?” he enquires. He watches how her eyes warm as she smiles up at him and she goes to wrap her arms around his neck again. He lifts both hands and shakes his head in warning and she gives a pout and drops them.

“I’m feelin’ a little lonely tonight and I was wonderin’ whether you want to have a good time?” She glances off to the side and at the same time Bucky looks over his shoulder at Olivia  who is slowly chewing on a slice of pizza but watching them both with unadulterated curiosity. Tiffany looks up at Bucky. “We could drop the kid off home along the way, pick up a couple of bottles of good wine…have some fun…” Her voice trails away but her fingers don’t and Bucky jerks a step back and grabs onto her wrists and holds them steady and Tiffany gives him a lazy, knowing smile.

“No… damn it, Tiffany _…no_. I don’t know how you found me but I’m not interested in anything with you. I’m with my goddaughter who I haven’t seen in a while and when I take her back to her mom’s house, it’ll be alone and without anything to drink,” he tells her and sees how she blinks.

“Another night then?” she suggests. 

Bucky sighs in aggravation and tightens his grip on her wrists very slightly.

“No Tiffany, for God’s sake take the hint. I’m not interested. We had one drunken night and that was it. I don’t want to take it any further. Not now, not ever!” He hisses his words out, eyes all of a sudden intense on her face.

“You have another girl, is that it?” Tiffany’s expression turns ugly.

“No, that’s _not_ it and even if I did, it’s none of your business. Don’t make a scene because it won’t end well for you. Now I want you to go.” He continues to stare into her eyes but there’s no smile on his face, no charm, no opening to misinterpretation and he’s unmoved when her eyes fill with tears. He just slowly shakes his head and then lets go of her.

“You’re a sonofa _bitch_!” she hisses back at him. He just shrugs and watches how she turns and stomps away and out of the restaurant. He slowly exhales and then turns back around and smiles at Olivia who is regarding him with open interest.

“Who was that?” she murmurs as he retakes his seat. Bucky reaches for his milkshake and for a split second wishes it was something stronger.

“No one you know.”

“I know, which is why I’m asking you,” she answers, her eyes sparkling with sass. Bucky rolls his eyes. “I saw her at your apartment that one time and you wouldn’t tell me who she was then.”

“With good reason. It’s none of your business Munchkin. Eat,” he responds mildly, pointing at the half eaten slice on her plate.

“I could ask mom, she’d know,” she teases.

“She probably would. You’re eight years old honey and she was no one important then and she’s no one important now. Now for the last time, eat your pizza,” he replies. Olivia grins at him as she picks up her slice.  

“Mom said you’ve won a major publishing award,” she begins as she begins to eat again.

Bucky quietly sighs. “Yeah, the MacPherson Award. Apparently it’s a big deal,” he replies.

“Aren’t you proud of it?” she asks and he hears the surprise in her voice. He shrugs.

“I guess so.”

“But you don’t go to award ceremonies. Usually it’s Uncle Steve who goes. Because of all the people around, they make you nervous.”

Another shrug. For eight years old she’s remarkably perceptive but then again given who her father is, who her mother is, it shouldn’t be such a surprise.

“They do,” he admits.

“I remember the wedding, the rehearsal. You didn’t like either much but you were there.”

“Because it was Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy’s special day and I was best man so I couldn’t let anyone down and I had you and your mom lookin’ out for me, so there was that.”

“Is that why my mom is going with you to the dinner?”

Bucky slowly nods and his eyes narrow slightly because he senses a question coming.

“Is it a date?” she asks.

And there it is.

Bucky freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Why would you ask that and aren’t you a little _young_ to be asking me stuff like that?” he replies and watches how she slowly shrugs. Damn it if she’s like this at eight, he hates to think what she’s going to be like at eighteen? It’s a scary prospect.

“It’s a question. Are you taking my mom as your date?”

Bucky stares at her and wonders how to answer her without having Jess breathing down his neck later on, threatening to kill him because there’s the truth and there’s the eight year old friendly version of the truth.

“Would you mind if I did?” he enquires slowly, cautiously. He watches as she shakes her head.

“I wouldn’t and you really should. Mom hasn’t been out on a date in like… _forever_ …” she answers with an age old roll of her eyes. Bucky sighs, ignoring how his heart begins to bang in his chest. Jess said Olivia would be thrilled if they got together officially for everyone to know but their relationship is still so incredibly new that he doesn’t want to say or do anything to jinx it.

“We’re friends, honey. She’s accompanying me because she knows me and can help calm me down if I start to feel anxious.”

“Like at the wedding?”

“ _Exactly_ like the wedding,” he confirms.

* * *

 

He parks his car in the driveway of their house and kills the engine. It’s full dark and cutting it close to Olivia’s bedtime. For a moment there’s just silence inside of the car.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside before your mom sends out a search party,” he sighs, unfastening his seat belt and he watches Olivia do likewise. They get out of the car and head towards the front door and Bucky isn’t surprised in the slightest to see it open and he sees Jess standing there waiting for them. She smiles at them.

“Hey. Have a good time?” she enquires, her gaze dancing between them both. Olivia looks up at Bucky and grins. She nods.

“The best.” She hugs him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest for a moment before she looks up at him.

“Thanks for the pizza Uncle J,” she tells him and they both watch her dart inside of the house. Jess watches her disappear before looking back at Bucky. He stands on the doorstep and shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather biker jacket.

“She looks happy,” she murmurs and a smile softens his lips.

“We had a good time. She’s looking forward to her trip to Europe,” he replies.

“No awkward questions?”

“Well she asked if you coming with me to the MacPherson thing was a date.”

He watches Jess’s eyes go wide at that.

“And what did you say?”

“I said you were coming with me as a friend but FYI, she really wouldn’t mind if we went on a date together, apparently you haven’t been on one in like... _forever_.” He rolls his eyes in such a perfect parody of a teenager that it makes Jess giggle. He smiles in response.

“But she has a point. We haven’t been on a date yet and apart from the MacPherson gig, I want to put that right and soon.”

He sees how Jess’s eyes widen at his words.

“I’d like that too,” she murmurs. She sees how he looks over her shoulder before he takes a step closer to her and places a hand on her shoulder, sliding it slowly up the length of her neck to cup the side of her face.

“I wish I could stay with you tonight,” he whispers, his thumb gently tracing her lower lip before he presses a warm, soft kiss on her mouth. His heartbeat kicks up a notch and he quells down the longing to persuade her to let him stay. He knows that if he pushes it a little then she’ll acquiesce but he won’t.

“I wish you could too but you can from next week, if you want?” she whispers back, smiling up into his eyes. He kisses her again before slowly, reluctantly, withdrawing.

“God yeah I want.”

He sees how she frowns slightly.

“Why do you reek of cheap perfume? Did you have company at the pizza place?”

Bucky’s eyes go round at her words. There’s no sign of an accusation in her words, just curiosity.

“Yeah…uninvited. Tiffany.”

Jess rolls her eyes. “God, what did that dingbat want?” she sighs.

Bucky bites back a smile; dingbat is a good way to describe her.

“Company. Namely mine. I told her no, sent her on her way. She wasn’t happy but she went.” He watches Jess carefully. “She was a one-time mistake. I’m not interested in her, no way.”

Jess smiles. “I know.”

He tilts his head to one side. “Do you?”

She takes a step closer to him, placing a hand on his chest. “I do. Like you’ve said, we know each other already so when you say you aren’t interested in her, I believe you.” And as if to prove her point, she presses a kiss on his mouth and he takes one of her hands, sliding her fingers through his and gently squeezing them.

“Grab a shower before you go to bed though, that stuff will stick to everything and everyone for days.” She smiles into his eyes and he smiles back.

“I will. Now go on inside and lock the door. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her, letting go of her and watches how she smiles at him some more. He turns as he hears the door close as well as the click of the lock before he heads to his car.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Jess and the very close shave.

**Fourteen:**

She slides beneath the sheets and crawls slowly up the mattress towards him. He’s on his side, motionless. Sleeping. Naked apart from the t-shirt that he won’t take off. She gets it, he’s sensitive about his scars. She’s only seen them once when she rescued him from the shower that horrible time but he’s made sure that she hasn’t seen them again. She slides her hands up his chest beneath the soft cotton fabric, dragging the material upwards. Almost immediately she’s flat on her back with her arms pinned either side of her head and he’s leaning over her and for a flash of time his blue eyes are blank.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her heart fluttering in her chest. She watches as his eyes scan her face for a moment and then begin to clear. He blinks, gives his head a little shake.

She sees the brief expression of horror that flashes across his face as he quickly lets go of her.

“Oh God. Don’t be. I’m sorry too, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he whispers back, looking down and he starts to move away. She reaches out and grasps his wrist and he pauses, looks at her again.

“Can you do something for me?” she asks, “Will you take off your t-shirt?”

A frown. “Why?”

“Because I asked?”

She waits, heart still fluttering as he seems to weigh up her request. She fully expects him to refuse.  Then he gives a ragged sort of sigh and with one hand, pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it to one side.

She sees pale skin, dusted with faint freckles across his right shoulder and the upper part of his chest. His left shoulder is mostly the prosthesis and she takes in the pink puckered scarring of the connecting muscle. They’re long, almost like scratch marks. She remembers the surgeries he underwent in an attempt to halt the gangrene that had taken hold, how each surgery took a little more of the arm until the socket was removed and the march of the poison was finally halted. The memory of waiting in the family room throughout each of them, praying that he’d have the strength to make it through.  He did. Each time but it chipped away at his sense of self-preservation all the same. How could it not?

She looks into his eyes now and sees the challenge in them. The skin is smooth across his sternum and she sees the thin white ridged scars she glimpsed the day of the shower across his rib cage, accompanied by two circular bullet wounds. She lifts her head and she presses her lips against the scars on his left shoulder, feeling his muscle twitch beneath the embrace, hearing the quiet hiss of an indrawn breath. He wasn’t expecting her to do that. She then lies back down on the pillow and looks up at him once more. A faint frown comes and goes before he lowers his head and tenderly kisses her. She winds her arms around his neck, fingers getting lost in the thickness of his hair, feeling warm flesh pressed up against her own. He shifts closer to her, bracing his weight, arms at either side of her head, his mouth moving to the side of her neck, gently sucking on the pulse point beating madly there, feels the brush of his tongue against the sensitive flesh. She gives a sigh, moving restlessly against him, her thighs tipping open in invitation. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he slides between them, one hand moving under one of her hips, bracing her weight, tipping her slightly and he’s inside of her in one slow move and she quietly moans.

He makes love to her slowly, leisurely. Hands caressing, tongue, mouth doing likewise. There’s no sound in the room apart from their breathing, their moans, whispers of their names. He claims her mouth in a soft kiss as she cums, throbbing around him, fingers digging into skin, spine arched, his name an incantation in the air. Keeps moving, her hands smoothing over his skin hot against her own. Feels his mouth on her neck once more as he shudders out his own release. For a moment they’re still. He lifts his head and looks into her eyes once again, feeling her aftershocks. Then he gently smiles and she loves how it warms his eyes.

* * *

 

She sits beside him on the side of the bed and carefully places a hand against the raised scars that score his back.

“You don’t have to hide them from me,” she whispers to him and he turns his head and he looks at her.

“I don’t hide them from you. I hide them from me,” he confesses, his voice equally low.

“Because of what they remind you of.” Not even a question but he nods anyway.

He wants to tell her what they did to him, how he got those scars but the words won’t form in his mouth. He can see it all unfold inside of his head, remembers every detail of it but to actually share it with someone else is impossible right now, even after all this time it’s still locked tight inside of him. He looks at her again when he feels her smooth her hand against those scars.

“Wherever you went to right now, I want you to remember one thing and that is you’re a survivor. You _survived_.”

His smile doesn’t go anywhere near his eyes, she isn’t fooled for a second. He regards her.

“I guess I also thought you’d be turned off…by the left arm too. It _is_ kinda freaky lookin’.” He glances at it.

“Not turned off, I think you know that now and it’s part of you and you don’t turn me off…on the contrary…”

Bucky looks back at her and she can see the mild surprise on his face.

* * *

 

He’s still inside of her and she’s still gasping and quaking when he hears it. He looks down at Jess and his eyes are slightly wide with surprise.

“There’s someone at the door,” he whispers as he listens.

“What?” she gasps.

“The door. Someone’s here.”

She then smiles up at him. “You don’t have to whisper you know, whoever it is, can’t hear you,” she teases. He looks back down at her, a tad startled and then he grins as her words sink in.

“Maybe they’ll get the hint and go away,” he tells her and her smile widens.

He lowers his head and begins to kiss her again and she winds her arms around him and is lost in him once more. Hopefully they will go away and leave them in peace. 

Both flinch when his cell phone begins to ring from his bedside cabinet.

“Shit and fuck,” he hisses, resting his forehead against hers as she giggles. He looks across.

“Goddammit, it’s Steve,” he mutters and then looks at her again. Gently he moves free of her and rolls across the bed and grabs the damn thing. Stares at the screen as it continues to ring.

“I have to answer it otherwise he’ll think something’s up…” he mutters.

“Apart from the obvious?”

Her smile widens at his double take and she hears him chuckle, slowly shaking his head as he answers his phone, sitting up at the same time

“Steve?”

Behind him the bed moves and he looks at her over one shoulder to see her lying on her side, the sheet resting on her hip and he can see every inch of her.

“Where are you? I’m outside your door and there’s no one here. I thought you were on a deadline?” Steve sounds impatient, a little cross and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“And I am. What do you think I was doin’? I had my earphones in, didn’t hear the door.”

“But you heard your phone?”

“Because it’s right beside me, pal.” He feels the mattress give again and sees Jess slide out of bed and walk across his bedroom completely naked and for a brief moment his mind goes blank.

“Are you gonna let me in then?” Steve demands impatiently and Bucky is too mesmerised by the sight of naked Jess that he doesn’t immediately answer.

“Bucky?”

“What…oh…gimme a minute…” He disconnects the call and stands up. He watches Jess slide on her summer dress, the one he more or less stripped her out of the moment she walked into his apartment this morning. What time is it anyway? He checks his bedside clock.

“Shit, it’s gone two. You’re gonna have to go and pick Olivia up from school aren’t you?”

Jess’s expression is regretful. “I am.”

“And I have done absolutely no work today.” He catches sight of his sweats on the floor by his feet and he reaches down and retrieves them, sees his underwear bundled up inside of them and quickly puts them on.

“But we’ve had fun, right?” Bucky watches her approach him and place both hands on his bare chest. He smiles and nods.

“Give me a little time to see what Steve wants and I’ll try and get rid of him.”

“It’s okay, I really do have to go soon. Go and let him in before he calls you again. And you _do_ need to get some work done.” She gives him a kiss and hands him a t-shirt which he shrugs on as he leaves the room.

* * *

 

Steve is just pocketing his phone when Bucky opens the door.

“You’re not gonna throw anythin’ at me are you?” he asks as he steps over the threshold and Bucky frowns in puzzlement. “Because the last time I showed up unannounced, you threw a book at me, literally.”

Bucky closes the door behind him. “That’s because I was right in the middle of a crucial scene, you dumb ass.”

“And are you now?”

Bucky almost smiles; not the crucial scene _he’s_ thinking of, that’s for sure.

“Nah, I’m done for today. Interrupt at your pleasure. Want some coffee?” he asks and heads into the kitchen leaving Steve no option but to follow.

“Sure. I can’t stay long. I came by with your MacPherson invites and to ask if Jess is around.”

Bucky thinks for a minute and is just about to open his mouth and say that she isn’t, when the girl in question comes into the kitchen.

“I am but you’re gonna have to be quick as I need to head off to pick up Olivia shortly,” she interrupts. Steve turns and looks at her and he smiles, going to her and pressing a kiss on her cheek.

Bucky stares at her in surprise. She looks absolutely immaculate, clothing perfect, make up in place, hair neat. She doesn’t look like the girl who fifteen minutes ago was pinned underneath him and shouting out his name in bliss. She looks into his eyes as she passes him by and smiles, taking the coffee pot out of his hands and he turns his head and watches as she goes through the process of making a fresh pot.

“I have your invitations to the MacPherson Literary Awards.”

Bucky watches as he takes an envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and place them on the counter beside him. Jess looks at him over her shoulder.

“You could’ve just given them to Bucky y’know, after all it’s his shindig. Why does he need an invitation considering he’s a recipient this year, anyway?” she enquires. Steve shrugs restlessly.

“It’s a prestigious affair, security is high so everyone has to have an invitation. And you need to take care of those because Bucky will just lose them,” he answers.

“Hey!” Bucky’s protest is mild. Jess looks at him and she smiles ruefully.

“He’s right, you _will_ lose them. It took me two days to work through your last backlog of mail and there was stuff there that should’ve had replies weeks ago. You need to hire more staff.”

“To do what, hold my hand? I already have you and you’re plenty,” Bucky replies and she smiles at him again.

* * *

 

She makes coffee and pours it into mugs for both Bucky and Steve.

“Have you thought any more about doing some book signings?” Steve enquires and sees how Bucky and Jess look at each other.

“I haven’t done any since the first book came out,” Bucky begins.

“But you’re not saying no to the idea of doing some for this one?” Steve asks and sees the slight frown on his friend’s face. “I know the last time wasn’t so good but that was because you did press alongside it and you weren’t expecting their questions to be so personal. This time it would just be a signing or two, or three and there’d be no press directly involved.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this,” Bucky comments and then takes a mouthful of his coffee.

“I sent out a couple of feelers to a couple of book stores in the city. Both expressed huge interest and would agree to any provisos we put to them, namely no press questions, just the fans. Autographs only, no selfies, no questions deemed too personal by you. The ball is entirely in your court.”

“You know the reception was warm when you did signings for your first book, people really responded to you,” Jess adds and Bucky looks her way.

“You really think this would be a good thing for me to do? Me…the guy who isn’t his best in a room full of people without a gut full of booze to prop him up?” He sounds sceptical.

“When it was announced that you were attending the MacPherson Awards, pre orders for this book went up by ten percent all across the city,” Steve tells him.

“How about we organise one signing, just the one and see how it goes? If you’re comfortable with it then we’ll arrange the second one and so on. The moment it stops being fun then we stop, period,” Jess adds again.

“Sounds like you both want me to do it.” He gets the distinct feeling he’s being hemmed into a corner and he’s not sure he likes it.

“We both think it would be a great idea but ultimately it’s your decision. If you really don’t want to then we’ll respect your wish,” she assures him and he huffs out a sigh.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow. You need to get going if you’re gonna be on time to pick up Olivia,” he reminds her. He sees how she looks at her watch and her eyes widen.

“God, you’re right. I need to scoot.” She goes to him and presses a kiss on his cheek. “Leave me a list of what you need me to do tomorrow and I’ll get right on it in the morning.” She picks up her purse from where she left it beside the coffee pot and presses another kiss on Steve’s cheek, scoops up the envelope holding their invitation before she leaves.

* * *

 

Steve watches her leave and then looks back at his friend and there’s a half smile on his face.

“What?” Bucky demands, all of a sudden uncomfortable under his friend’s close scrutiny.

“Oh nothing. It’s just nice to see you guys working together given your falling out at the wedding,” he replies.

“We didn’t fall out…exactly,” Bucky mutters, taking a sip of his coffee and feeling his cheeks heat with a traitorous blush.

“Whatever it was. She’s here so you’ve worked whatever it is out I take it?”

“We’re still friends Steve if that’s what you’re asking,” he answers, hoping he won’t be struck down for the lie he’s just told and thankfully Steve doesn’t push it any further.

He heads into the living room, coffee cup still in his hand.

“Have you talked about what happened after the wedding?” Steve enquires from behind him, following him through and Bucky glances at him over his shoulder.

“Kinda…” he hedges.

“And?”

Bucky shrugs and Steve recognises the code and he quietly sighs and Bucky rolls his eyes, feeling defensive again.

“Hey…why don’t you tell me how the honeymoon went…you’re still as pale as milk so I’m guessin’ it was a success? “ he grins as he sees how Steve blushes, the tips of his ears turning pink. It’s his turn to shrug, turning as bashful as a schoolboy. Ha, see how he likes it, Bucky thinks but it’s done the trick and deflected any attention away from Jess and himself for the time being. He lowers himself down onto his work chair and watches Steve sit on the sofa. He then shifts and looks down as something obviously gets his attention and Bucky watches his eyes widen slightly and then reach down and retrieve something that’s obviously got stuck between the cushions. He experiences a weird sense of foreboding  as Steve slowly holds whatever it is up and Bucky’s eyes widen in shock when he sees the scrap of flimsy black lace dangling from one long finger.

Jess’s missing panties. He feels hot embarrassment surge through him anew.

“Shit!” he hisses and lunges forward and grabs them from his grinning best friend.

“Really Buck? How long’s that been there?” he chortles. Bucky just glowers as him as he yanks it out of view, balling them up and shoving them into the pocket of his sweats.

“Good job Jess didn’t see ‘em,” he continues, still grinning, still highly amused. Bucky doesn’t answer, doesn’t dare try and enlighten his friend as to who they belong to in the first place. Instead he takes another mouthful of coffee and waits for the embarrassment to fade away.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky attends a book signing and makes a new friend in the process. This chapter is more of a filler for what's to come next.

**Fifteen:**

Bucky stares at the queue that is winding around the block and his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Holy shit, are they here to see me?” he breathes and he looks at Jess who sits beside him. She looks out of the window and looks back at him, grinning.

“Yep, all for you. Word travels fast.”

Bucky has agreed to do one signing at a large branch of a popular chain of bookstores as an experiment to the possibility of doing one or two more. Steve has also been broaching the subject of him doing a few more in other cities but he hasn’t agreed to those, yet. As it is, he’s not entirely sure he’ll be able to go through with this one.

He stares at the queue and swallows nervously.

“You okay, Buck?” Jess asks and once more he looks at her and just nods but he can feel his heartbeat accelerate and familiar white noise start to hiss in his ears. He takes a slow deep breath, clenches both hands into tight fists. He wants a drink. Badly wants a drink.

“Remember, if you change your mind I can get the driver to take you back to your apartment. People will understand.” He can just about hear her voice above the buzzing inside of his head.

“Bucky?”

Slowly, eventually he turns his head and forces himself to look at her, to focus on her face.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to do exactly that but he takes another deep breath and slowly exhales.  He shakes his head.

“No, I can’t do that, I mean look at the size of that crowd, they’ll be disappointed.” His eyes are drawn back to them as the SUV holding them parks outside of the store.

“You need to put this on,” Jess tells him and she loops something over his head. He looks down at the flat credit card shaped pendant and sees that it’s a lanyard with his name, picture and ‘author’ emblazoned on it. He looks back at her and his smile is faint.

“Really? This is necessary?”

“Oh yeah. I’m covering all my bases today,” Jess smiles at him and she leans across him and opens the door and she climbs out. She smiles at the small group who approach them; the manager of the store, a second employee who will help Jess keep things running and a representative of Galaxy Publications who has also been assigned to monitor the event and to report back to Steve no doubt. She hears the ripple that goes through the crowd when Bucky emerges from the interior of the vehicle and goes to stand beside her. He shakes hands with the various representatives, offers the waiting crowd a shy smile and follows them inside.

* * *

 

A special area has been set aside for the signing and his eyes widen when he sees the large book display accompanied by a photograph of him on a pedestal and he slowly swallows as he regards it. It’s the standard photo that adorns the inside sleeve of all of his books and he stares at it. He hadn’t wanted to pose for any kind of photograph but Jess talked him into it and that was the result. He isn’t smiling and is regarding the photographer with a modicum of suspicion. His hair was shorter then, just growing in after he buzzed it off shortly after being discharged from the rehab place and he had a heavy stubble instead of the thicker beard he now sports. He looked intimidating but back then he just wanted to eradicate what he’d been through both in the Middle East and in general. Now his hair is a lot longer and his beard is thicker but trimmed. He looks like he’s more in control now but he has many days when he knows that isn’t really true. There are piles of his latest book stacked by the table waiting to be signed by him, more on a table near the store entrance. He sighs quietly and heads to the long table which is big enough to seat three or four people. He takes the centre seat and watches how Jess choreographs the team, making sure everyone knows their roles and where they are supposed to be. At either side of the table are two burly looking security guards and Bucky regards them with a modicum of suspicion but he supposes they are a necessary evil. A clear Starbucks cup appears in front of him with a straw coming out of the top and he lifts his head and makes eye contact with Jess. Iced coffee. He offers her a smile of thanks.

“You ready for this?” she enquires.

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” he responds in a low voice and watches as she turns and nods to the store manager.

Jess watches as he poses for the obligatory press photographs. He stands beside the book display with a book in each hand as they take their pictures. They’ve been instructed not to ask him questions, especially none of a personal nature. The press are perennially curious about what he went through in the Middle East, even more so since he will not be drawn into conversation about it. So she recognises the apprehension that she sees in his eyes, even though he’s smiling somewhat politely for them. She keeps a careful eye on him as well as the photographers, recognising how he subtly flinches as the camera flashes brighten up both him and his surroundings like a lightning storm but finally it’s over and he watches them leave. He turns his head and looks at Jess as she comes over to him. She takes his left hand and subtly squeezes it.

“That’s the worst part over with. C’mon, time to meet your adoring public,” she murmurs to him and she hears his quiet chuckle as she leads him back to the table.

* * *

 

Jess sits beside him and it’s her task to pass him the books ready to sign. She knows that he’s nervous, can tell by the smile that he plasters on his face as his fans begin to approach him with smiles on their faces and eyes sparkling with excitement.

“You’ll be fine,” she murmurs to him and watches him as one by one they approach the table.

At the beginning he’s a little stiff, conversation being limited to ‘hi’ ‘what’s your name’ and ‘thank you’. He signs steadily, handing each book back with a smile before turning his attention to the next person but gradually he begins to relax and the smiles become more natural. Jess observes as he listens to each reader as they share with him favourite books, story lines and characters. He listens as they recommend other authors’ work to him and eventually he makes Jess write their names down so he doesn’t forget.

“You want to take a break yet?” Jess asks him when she sees how he flexes his right hand. She sees how he lifts his head and sees the still long queue snake around the store, all waiting patiently. He shakes his head, reaching for a water bottle which he opens and drinks from.

“I’m okay.”

“You’ve been here for over two hours now, you ready to call it a day?” she enquires. He glances at her and shakes his head again.

“No. I’ll be done when I’ve signed for everyone waitin’,” he tells her and sees her eyes widen with surprise.

“Are you sure? The queue is pretty long, the event was only for an hour.”

“I’m sure. They’ve come here to see me, I’m not gonna take off in the middle of it.”

Jess smiles softly at him. His eyes scan her face and he slowly smiles back in realisation.

“And that was your intention all along,” he guesses and she just shrugs.

“I was playing it by ear, that’s all,” she tells him.

* * *

 

Bucky sees the woman approach the table. Beside her is a young boy who is regarding him with wide dark eyes. He smiles at him and sees how he slowly smiles in response. He looks up at the woman; she’s pretty with olive skin and equally dark eyes.

“Hi,” Bucky greets and sees the smile that forms on her face, “What’s your name?” Beside him Jess pushes a book across and he holds his pen, ready to sign her name.

“The book is for my husband, for his birthday. His name is Ben,” the woman informs him.

“You want me to write in a happy birthday message?” Bucky enquires and the woman nods, smiling softly. So Bucky does that, wishing Ben a happy birthday and then signing his name underneath. He then looks up at the woman and smiles, closing the book and handing it to her. All the while the little boy stands beside her but he’s watching Bucky with open curiosity.

“Can I see your arm?” he blurts out and Bucky stares at him for a moment in stunned surprise. He hears his mother gasp in horror and reprimand him for asking such a personal question.

“I’m sorry…” she apologises, becoming red faced and flustered. Bucky regards the young boy a little while longer. He looks to be about Olivia’s age and he’s staring back at Bucky with an openness he’s come to expect from kids, waiting for his reply but there’s something else about him, a fragility that Bucky recognises.

“My arm’s fake too…I read that you lost yours in Iraq, when you were held prisoner…I got meningitis when I was a baby,” the boy continues, his voice shaking with bravado.

Slowly Bucky smiles at him.

“I did. You wanna see my arm?” He keeps his voice quiet, calm even though his nerve endings are prickling a little. The little boy nods.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asks as he removes the thin leather black glove that he always wears when he’s out and about and he flexes the fingers of his left hand and watches the boy’s eyes go wide.

“My name is Billy,” the boy whispers.

“Well Billy, there’s more. Wanna see?” Bucky continues and at the boy’s nod, he slowly unzips his hoodie and pulls his arm free, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt so he can see it. He then leans across the table and stretches the arm out. “You can touch it if you like,” he invites and watches as the boy does just that, the fingers of his flesh and blood hand gently stroking the metal plates, watching in amazement as they whirr and shift as Bucky slowly moves his arm.

“It’s so cool,” the child whispers watching as Bucky opens and closes his hand then wraps his fingers around his. He then looks at him.

“I’m still growing so I can’t have one as cool as this,” he whispers and he shows him his prosthetic. It’s flesh coloured and only a couple of fingers operate in a kind of pincer movement. Bucky reaches across the table with his other hand and gently touches it, lifting his eyes to Billy’s again. They meet and hold and Bucky offers him a gentle smile in response. Billy’s answering smile is equally shy.

“Well this one is kinda special as it was specially created for me,” Bucky confides, slowly pulling his arm back and slotting it back into the sleeve of his hoodie.  “You know what, once you’ve stopped growing, get in touch with me, let me make some enquiries for you.”

“That’s really kind of you Mr Barnes,” the kid’s mom interrupts, still a little flustered. Bucky looks up at her.

“I’ll make some enquiries. If you want to give Jess your contact details then that would be great. Don’t worry about cost or anything like that. Please.” He sees how her eyes widen and he smiles, feeling something loosen a little in the vicinity of his chest.

“Thank you Mr Barnes,” the little boy replies while his mother writes down her information in a notepad Jess hands over to her, her hand shaking. Bucky smiles at him and he reaches out with his left hand and takes the boy’s flesh hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Call me Bucky, kid. Take care of yourself. I’ll drop you an email from time to time, see how you’re doin’, is that okay?”

He watches Billy’s head bob up and down with an eager nod.

Bucky watches them walk away, a faint smile on his face.

“That’s a nice thing you just did there,” Jess murmurs and he turns his head and looks at her.

“I had a hard job adjusting to my new arm and I was an adult, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s been like for him. What’s his mom’s name?” He pulls the notepad over and scans the information, noticing that she’s left an email address. “Madeleine.”  He looks back at Jess.

“I meant what I said about making enquiries. He’s right when he said he’s still growing so a prosthetic like mine wouldn’t be the best idea for him right now as they’re so expensive. Maybe in a few years when he’s stopped growing he’ll be eligible for one and they’re hopefully not as expensive.”

“But what if it is?”

Bucky shrugs as he watches another person approach the table.

“Then maybe I can help him out with the cost. We’ll see.” He smiles at his newest arrival and the subject matter is dropped.

* * *

 

The event is over and Bucky has signed books for everyone who turned up. His right wrist aches and he’s mentally exhausted but overall he’s enjoyed the time he’s spent here. He’s signed books for a wide variety of people, written messages in some, smiled and chatted with people and more to the point, relaxed into the experience. He gets to his feet and stretches, groaning quietly at the same time, feeling his spine stretch, muscles and ligaments pop and settle.

“How are you feeling?” Jess enquires, getting to her feet too. He looks at her and manages a smile.

“I’m okay.”

“You made a lot of people really happy, staying over and making sure everyone got a book signed.”

“It helps with sales, right?” he tells her and she smiles.

“They were all here to see you and would’ve bought the book whether you’d been able to sign it or not,” she answers, picking up her jacket from the back of her chair and sliding it on. She then reaches beneath the desk and retrieves her purse as well as a large tote bag. “Some left you letters. If you want to read them then you can, if you’re not sure, I can scan through them and show them to you at a later date.”

She sees how he pauses, giving it some thought.

“Maybe we can read through them together? Not right now though. I think you’re late picking up the Munchkin.”

He watches as she checks her watch and then slowly shakes her head.

“Pepper is picking her up today, she knew I had the signing with you and volunteered.” She sees the mild surprise in his eyes. “I’ve told you, she’s good for Tony and she’s a good stepmother to Olivia. She and I have a common goal so we get along.”

“So I have you for a little longer?” he enquires, sliding an arm across her shoulders and she smiles and leans against him for a moment.

“Just a little longer. You’re welcome to come back with me and share dinner with us and listen to Olivia freak out about her European vacation.”

“I thought she was looking forward to it?”

Jess’s eyes take in their surroundings, making sure nothing has been left behind. “And she is. She’s freaking out that she’ll forget something important. She has a list that is growing longer by the hour.”

“How long will she be gone for?” They slowly begin to walk towards the exit.

“Four weeks. To listen to her, you’d think she’s going for six months.”

“Ah well, you gals like to pack for every possibility,” Bucky teases and she glances at him and she smiles.

“I guess we do. So, dinner?” she enquires and hears his sigh.

“Rain check? I’m kinda…tired after today,” he answers, his tone apologetic.

“It’s absolutely fine. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

He’s very quiet heading back to his apartment and his silence is a little unnerving to Jess but she doesn’t say anything to begin with. She can see the dark shadows smudged beneath both eyes, skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. He’s staring out of the window, at the passing metropolis but Jess doubts that he’s really seeing any of it. Eventually the driver pulls up outside of his apartment building and behind Jess’s car and the pair disembark.

“Hey…are you sure you’re okay?” Jess enquires, looking into his eyes. His smile is slow to emerge, his eyes a little dull.

“I’m fine Jess, I just wanna relax, maybe catch up on some sleep,” he replies.

“I can call Pepper, get her to take Olivia with her, I can stick around here if you want me to?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No. Go and spend some time with your kid.”

Jess regards him, a little concerned by his withdrawal, reluctant to leave him by himself.

“The offer still stands, you could hang out with us? I’m a little worried about you Buck, despite what you’ve said, today has taken a lot out of you and I don’t think you should be alone.”

She hears his sigh. “Baby, I’ll be fine and anyway, I don’t think I’d be good company tonight. Go spend time with the Munchkin, tell her Uncle J said hi and to have a great trip. You I’ll see tomorrow and we can make a start on all that mail you have in that bag.” His left hand slides down her right arm and gently clasps around her wrist.  “Please don’t worry about me, I just need to decompress and I do that better by myself.” He lowers his voice to an intimate whisper and then presses a gentle kiss on her lips.

She holds onto his arms. “Then call me before you go to sleep?”

Bucky just nods. He draws her into his arms and wraps his arms around her and holds her close.

He watches as she climbs into her car and lifts a hand in a wave as she drives away. He then takes a deep breath and turns and walks away from his apartment.

He needs something to drink. He thinks he’s earned it today.

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter begins in flashback. Jess discovers Bucky in a state of PTSD induced anxiety. Later on she and Tony have a conversation and an understanding is reached.
> 
> Warnings for angst and suffering in the first half of the chapter.

**Sixteen:**

_For the most part the villagers ignore him._

_For the most part he’s kept hidden from view but once in a while they chain him to a concrete post out in the baking sun._

_He spends that time watching the comings and goings, listening to the different dialects, absorbing but not really understanding what is being said. The sounds wash over him but he watches the faces, curious about what they’re doing. He’s always careful to avert his gaze or lower his head if their attention turns his way. He’s been beaten for less._

_He doesn’t know how long he’s been here now. Judging by the length of his hair, the thickness of his beard, it’s been a while. Time has no relevancy to him anymore. As well as keeping him hidden, they move him around. They’re careful not to let him get too settled, to form attachments to anyone or anything. Not that he wants to but even he recognises that need to form a physical connection to someone, something._

_He thinks of Jess back home, his Jess-a-mine. His nickname for her, though she’ll never be his, not really. He wonders how she is, what she’s doing. Does she have any more kids? He has a vague memory of walking around a bright sunlit room, taking slow deliberate steps, humming something beneath his breath, lulling a tiny baby in his arms to sleep. She was a restless infant, he’s pretty sure that the baby is a she. There are some days he isn’t sure. There are some days that he thinks that the baby is his and others when he remembers that she isn’t. She’s Jess’s little girl; Jess and Tony Stark’s little girl. Not his._

_A shadow falls across him and he immediately lowers his head, stares at the dusty ground, hunches in, tries to make himself as small and as insignificant as possible._

_“Hi. Buck-ee…”_

_He lifts his head and makes brief eye contact with his visitor. Yakub. Twelve years old and his only friend in this hell hole, if he can call him a friend. He glances up again and sees how the boy looks around, he’s looking to see if anyone is paying attention to him. Bucky does likewise, eyes darting but he can’t see anyone looking in their direction but he can’t be too sure. There are spies, watchers everywhere.  He looks back down at his feet as Yakub drops down beside him. He’s a tall gangly boy with untidy black hair and black-brown eyes that sparkle with curiosity and mischief._

_“You shouldn’t be here,” Bucky mutters, not daring to make eye contact again._

_“Nobody looking.”_

_“Maybe not right now but they will and they’ll talk. You need to go before they do because you’ll be punished.” Sneaks another sideways look at him to see him looking distinctly unimpressed. He then drops something beside Bucky and gets to his feet. He doesn’t say another word as he runs away and disappears into the crowds of people milling around. Bucky’s eyes scan the people and waits a moment or two before he chances a look at what Yakub dropped beside him. It’s wrapped in a scrap of material, tied loosely with string. Slowly he reaches for it, using both hands to scoop it up. Another careful look around, his fingers squeezing the parcel, surreptitiously, cautiously. His stomach gives a traitorous growl when he realises what it is, what he guessed it would be. Food. Most days Yakub appears almost like a wraith, whether he’s outside or locked up in his shed, he appears with a similarly small wrapped present and it’s always food. A piece of bread, cheese, something he thinks is meat but isn’t entirely sure but he’s learned that he can’t be fussy. His captors often forget to feed him and some days whatever Yakub brings him is all that he eats. Then he disappears, like smoke on the breeze._

_He looks down at his bare feet. He can’t remember what happened to his boots. He guesses they were taken from him the last time he tried to escape. His t-shirt is faded, filthy and riddled with holes, the same with his fatigues. Out of the corner of his eye he sees one of his captors approach him, one of the nastier ones and surreptitiously he squirrels his food away._

_Shadows. He’s alone in this stifling room. The silence is thick and heavy but he can hear buzzing. Insects or inside of his head. He doesn’t know anymore. His t-shirt is even more tattered now and he can feel it sticking painfully to the bloodied pulp that is his back. His feet have suffered a similar fate. He tried to run again. Fooled one of his captors into thinking he was helpless, weak and finally broken. He didn’t appreciate the elbow to his nose before he bolted.  Fiery pain throbs through him, he doesn’t know where it hurts the most. They brought him down with gunfire. His left shoulder throbs as does his arm and it hurts to breathe. When he coughs, there’s blood. When he breathes, he feels the burn and hears the rattle in his chest. They haven’t taken the bullets out. He knows there’s an infection brewing in there. One eye is swollen shut, bottom lip puffed up and split. They’d taken out their rage on him, almost beaten him to death._

_He flinches back when the rickety shed door bursts opens and sees two of his captors appear and they’re dragging someone between them. They’re thrown down at Bucky’s feet and Bucky’s heart begins to pound when he recognises him. It’s Yakub. His face is bruised and bloody, hands tied in front of him. Wide eyes meet. The boy is shaking with terror and Bucky swallows against an already dry throat. They know. They know._

_“No...don’t…no!” he tries to shout, attempting to move towards the terrified boy, intending to protect him. How, he doesn’t know, God knows he can barely move but he has to try. He feels a boot connect to his already damaged ribs and his vision goes grey as the pain radiates through his body, robbing burning lungs of any air and he collapses on the ground, gasping._

_Blood sprays. Sharp knife against skin, slicing, cutting. The gurgle of life draining away, soaking the dusty ground._

_“No…no…please.” His voice is low, rusted, dry. Heart hammering. Chest heaving. Pain blurring together. He hurts. Doesn’t know where it starts or where it ends._

_Grab his hair and haul him to his knees. Arms yanked and tied behind his back. Tries not to gasp too loud at the pain._

_Feels the cold press of the blade against his own throat. Closes his eyes. Ignores the tears that burn beneath the lids. This is it. The end of the line._

_Hears the rhythmic whump of helicopter blades above his head._

_A door crashes open. Panic. He falls._

* * *

 

Bucky’s lying on the floor, the wood cool against his cheek. For a moment he stares straight ahead. His heart is thrumming in his chest, adrenaline throbbing through his veins. The room is black. Silence shrouds him, hugging him close. He listens, trying to quieten his breathing. _They’ll hear him_. _They’ll slit his throat this time if he makes a sound._ He continues to wait, immobile, eyes wide, muscles trembling. Counting down the seconds.

_One Mississippi…Two Mississippi…Three Mississippi…_

Gradually as he listens, he begins to realise that he can hear other sounds above his breathing. He can hear traffic. The distant scream of sirens and the faded but impatient blast of car horns. He exhales noisily as reality begins to filter through.

_He’s home. He’s in New York. He’s safe._

He stays absolutely still for another moment just to be sure and feels his vision blur. Eventually he begins to move his arms and legs, feels the weight of his left arm and hears the plates whirr quietly as he pushes himself up onto his knees, ignoring the dull throb of his left cheekbone. He then sits on the floor with a hard thump and rubs at the sore spot, feeling tears streak down his face. For a time he remains still, his hands covering his face and feels cold fear tremble throughout his body. He’s shivering, absolutely freezing cold and doesn’t feel he can get warm. He pulls up his knees rests his forehead against them and noisily exhales.  He doesn’t have the strength to get back into bed.

_He’s not safe._

The thought lances through his brain, quickly robbing his lungs of air.

He’s scared. So scared. His head snaps up and he listens. He thinks he can hear something. Footsteps. Creaking on the wooden floor. Quiet. Cautious. Insidious.  His eyes go wide. He isn’t alone. He rapidly pushes himself backwards until his back makes hard contact with the wall and he wedges himself into the small gap between his bedside cabinet and bookcase and makes himself as small as possible. He continues to listen, every sense honed, tuned in to every single sound and sensation around him with clean sharp intensity. He’s panting quietly. Terrified. Frozen. Heart pulsing in his chest.

* * *

 

Dawn greys the sky outside and still he remains pressed up against the wall in his little cubby. Watching. Listening. Waiting.

His eyes wrench open when he feels hands touch his face. Heart leaps with fright. Hands come up, ready to fight.

“Hey…hey baby, it’s me…Jess,” the voice whispers.

He gasps. Stares into blue eyes. Familiar blue eyes. Jess. _Jess-a-mine._

“Oh God,” he whispers as he realises.

 She’s scanning his face, her eyes are wide with concern.

“What happened, honey?” she continues to whisper, fingers stroking over skin, checking for what, he doesn’t know.

For a moment he can’t speak. Then his eyes take in his surroundings. Bedroom. His bed to his right, bedding in disarray. Last night. Half a bottle of Johnnie Walker. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“God, you’re freezing. Can you stand?” she asks. He looks back at her and slowly nods.

She helps him upright, sliding an arm around his waist and bracing his weight as his legs threaten to buckle. She leads him to his bed and sinks down onto the side of the mattress with him.

“You’re as white as a ghost. I knew I shouldn’t have left you last night,” she tells him, taking his right hand and holding tight. She’s warm and he clings to it.

“Nightmare,” he eventually croaks. “Maybe… because… of yesterday.” He’s still finding it hard to speak coherently, sentences are proving to be a bit of a trial at the moment.

“Want to talk about it?” she asks, keeping her voice gentle. He just shakes his head. The words bounce around inside of his head but won’t come out.

“Why don’t you try to grab some sleep? I’ll be around in case you need me,” Jess suggests and Bucky slowly nods. He climbs beneath the sheets, lying passively as she arranges the blankets around him. She watches as he slowly rolls onto his left, facing her and he slowly closes his eyes.  Then they spring open and he stretches his right arm out, wrapping a hand around her left wrist.

“Stay with me,” he whispers and his eyes track up to hers and she sees the plea in them.

She softly smiles.

“Okay. Give me a second,” she whispers back and he lets go of her wrist.

She kicks off her shoes and slides into the bed behind him and she wraps an arm around his chest, moulding herself against the length of him, feeling the chill of his skin through her clothing. He’s still shaking a little. She loosens her hold onto him as he rolls over to face her.

“Come here, baby,” she murmurs and he goes into her arms, resting his head on her breastbone and she rests her chin on top of his head. He gives a long shuddering sigh and she feels the tension slowly begin to ease out of him. She pulls the sheets further up around their bodies, covering him from his shoulders downwards, rubs his back over the sheets, trying to warm him up.

“I dreamed I was back there again.” His voice is muffled against her t-shirt, the warmth of his breath leaching through the fabric. His left arm feels heavy wrapped around her as it is and she feels his hand clench against her back.

“Back in Iraq?”

A brief silence.

“Yeah.” The admission is all but a whisper.

Jess doesn’t immediately respond. Instead she concentrates on slowly and rhythmically stroking his back.

“I dreamed about Yakub.”

Jess keeps up the slow but steady rhythm and she waits for him to continue. He never talks about what he went through as a prisoner. She knows about parts of it from army and medical reports from the hospital in Germany and the rehab clinic but nothing from Bucky specifically. He left there with everything locked in tight and nothing incurs him to talk about it, preferring to anaesthetise it all with alcohol. She has a feeling the half empty bottle of scotch in his living room has something to do with right now.

“It’s okay, just remember to breathe,” she murmurs when she hears his deep ragged breath.

“Yakub was a kid in the last village I was kept in. For whatever reason, he took a shine to me. He could speak a little English. I told him to leave me alone because if my…if _they_ knew, they’d punish him and probably his family too but he ignored them.”

“How old was he?” She keeps her voice low.

Another ragged, wounded sigh. She hears the pain. “Twelve,” he replies and she holds onto him a little bit tighter.

“Did they find out?”

She almost knows the answer before he tells her.

“Yeah.”

“What happened to him?”

She holds her breath.

For a moment she thinks he isn’t going to answer. Instead she can hear his ragged breathing, how his hand flexes against her spine.

“They killed him,” he whispers, “in front of me. God…they. .cut…they cut his throat.” He rushes the last four words and that brief silence is horrible. Jess closes her eyes and slowly swallows.

“Oh God,” she whispers.

“I told him…I told him over and over but he wouldn’t listen.” He moves restlessly against her and once more she tightens her hold on him, quietly shushing him into settling again.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“He tried to help me to escape that last time but they caught me, they shot me, dragged me back. Beat me.” His voice fades and she hears his low moan of pain. “They were gonna kill me. Was almost certain of it. This time they were gonna carry out their threat. I was waitin’ for them and instead they dragged Yakub in. Threw him down at my feet. God he was…terrified…” Jess hears the tears that clog his throat.

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she whispers roughly, feeling her own eyes fill.

“No…no I gotta. I gotta get it out…” He trembles against her.

“Okay,” she acquiesces and she hears him gulp in another deep breath.

“They knew he’d tried to help me. Knew and they cut his throat open in front of me.” She holds him as he shudders against her. “Jess. He was _twelve_. He was just a _kid_ …”

She hears his horror as tears trickle down her cheeks. Just a few years older than Olivia. She swallows against the heavy lump in her throat.

“They were gonna do the same to me. I felt the knife against my throat and I closed my eyes and waited. I wasn’t scared. I was ready. I’d had enough, I was ready for them to kill me and finally be done with it.” He moves away from her, resting his head on the pillow beside hers. She sees the tears on his face.

“I was just about out of it. I was sick with fever and just so… _tired_. Then I heard the helicopter blades above where I was being held. I don’t know how the Army Rangers finally found me but they did. Got me outta there. They told me later they’d taken out every single insurgent there was. I don’t remember that. I just remember feeling the blade against my throat and thinkin’ I was never gonna see you or Steve or anyone again and I remember the door burstin’ open and a lot of shoutin’ and gun fire. I just hit the ground, I think and there was just noise…noise…and then I was bein’ carried out.” He closes his eyes as he frowns. “If they’d just been a few minutes early, they probably woulda saved the kid too,” he whispers.

“You don’t know that Bucky. The Rangers’ directive was to get _you_ out of there. I can guess that they didn’t know about anyone else being there, neither you nor they could’ve guessed what would happen to Yakub. That’s not on you or anyone else. That’s on the insurgents and they got what they deserved.” She reaches out and touches his face, thumbs brushing away the tears on his face.

“I’m glad you told me about Yakub, that you felt you could trust me enough to share him with me.” She shuffles closer to him and presses a single soft kiss on his lips.

“Try and sleep for a little while, huh?”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“I will, I promise,” she whispers.

* * *

 

Today is the day Olivia leaves on her European trip and Jess tries to ignore the pang that she feels at the thought of four weeks without her daughter. Olivia on the other hand is buzzing at the prospect of travelling overseas, of spending some time with her father and her stepmother and they’d spent a frantic few hours the night before making sure that every important thing was packed. Jess made a list of her possessions, even going as far as laminating it and slipping it in the inside pocket of her largest suitcase so she can reference it as and when she needs to. She sits at the kitchen table and listens to her daughter’s excited chatter and she barely touches her breakfast as a result.

“You know, you’re gonna want to eat something before the flight otherwise you’ll freak your father out by passing out,” Jess murmurs and nudges the plate of toast closer to her. She sees how Olivia grins at her as she picks up a slice.

“When is Uncle J’s award ceremony?” she asks as she chews and it’s all Jess can do not to roll her eyes.

“It’s not _his_ award ceremony, he’s a recipient, there are a few receiving awards and it’s next Saturday evening.”

“But he’s getting the biggest, most important one, right?”

“Right. The MacPherson itself.”

Olivia widens dark brown eyes. “Wow. He must be proud,” she continues.

“I guess he must be.” To be truthful, he’s been a little bit dismissive about the whole thing but she suspects there’s a little bit of pride in there, somewhere.

“I did some research online last night about the award, not even Ernest Hemingway received one and he’s one of Uncle J’s favourites,” she breathes. “And Hemingway is studied in schools.”

“Well you’re a little too young to be reading Hemingway right now young lady and Uncle J knows exactly how much of a big deal it is.” She hears the knock on the front door and Olivia’s eyes light up and she hops off her chair and heads off to answer it before Jess can remind her to finish her breakfast. She sighs, rolling her eyes and she gets to her feet when she hears her ex-husband’s bemused voice and presently Olivia and Tony enter the kitchen.

“You need to finish your toast, Olivia,” she quietly reprimands. Her daughter sighs and trudges back to the table, sitting back down with a heavy thump. Her parents exchange a look.

“She’s been hyper since she got up. She’s so excited, I swear she hasn’t slept more than four hours all night. Want some coffee?”

Tony glances at his watch. “Sure, that’d be nice.” He goes to the kitchen table and takes the seat beside his daughter and watches as Jess goes to the coffee pot and fills a clean cup with coffee. She doesn’t add anything to it and she returns to the table, placing it in front of him.

“Thanks,” Tony murmurs and watches her sit down opposite. “How have you been?” he asks.

“I’m okay. How about you?” She takes a sip of her coffee, this is the first attempt at conversation they’ve had since Steve and Peggy’s wedding and the atmosphere is still a little strained.

“Busy. Can’t complain.” He regards her steadily as he takes a sip of coffee. “Damn, you still make the best coffee in New York,” he murmurs quietly and Jess smiles.

“That’s what waitressing does for you, I suppose,” she replies with a shrug. A quick smile comes and goes. Jess picks up her own coffee cup and takes a sip and neither adult speaks.

“Did you know Uncle J is going to get a literary award, daddy?” Olivia pipes up.

“No, I did not. And who, pray tell, is Uncle J?” he replies, his tone teasing and Olivia grins.

“Uncle James but I call him Uncle J now. He seems to like it. Mom says he’s gonna get it next Saturday,” she continues and Tony looks Jess’s way.

“The MacPherson?”  At Jess’s nod, his eyes slowly widen. “That’s one hell of a big deal. And he’s attending? I thought he didn’t as a rule?”

Jess shrugs. “He’s attending this one. It might be the only one. It’s in recognition for his debut novel. The third one just came out last week and is forecast to go straight to the top of the New York Best Sellers’ list.”

“Like the other ones?”

Jess nods again.

“Wow,” Tony murmurs and Jess is surprised to hear that her ex-husband really sounds impressed. He then looks in Olivia’s direction.

“Hey sweetie, how about you go up to your room to check and make sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” he then suggests. They both see her roll her eyes.

“So you and mom can talk about grown up stuff? I’m not a kid y’know,” she huffs.

“Well that may be the case inside of your beautiful little head darlin’ but according to your birth certificate, you’re still very much a minor and maybe we do need to talk grown up stuff but it’s _boring_ grown up stuff.” He widens his eyes and then smiles. “Go on. We’ll be leaving soon and I’m not coming back because you realise you’ve left Mr Fluffy behind and you _have_ to bring him with you on your trip.” He grins as her eyes widen with horror.

“I had Mr Fluffy when I was five daddy!” she informs him with embarrassed indignity and then slides off her chair and they both watch her head out of the kitchen.

Jess chuckles as they hear her climb the stairs.

“You have her passport and all vital documentation, right?”

“She gave them to me the last time she was with me, Pepper has all of that under control, don’t worry.”

“Where would you be without Pepper, huh?” Jess teases and Tony’s answering smile was rueful.

“I don’t wanna know. Anyhow, before our daughter gets back, I wanted to say something to you,” he continues and for a moment he just looks at her.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about the way I acted at Steve and Peggy’s wedding. What I said to the both of you was inappropriate and wrong.”

“Yeah, it was,” Jess answers softly. Tony’s gaze becomes assessing as he scans her face.

“Barnes said something that’s stuck with me. He said that I gave you everything that you wanted but perhaps what I should’ve done is given you what you _needed_. I should’ve given you more of me, of my attention and I didn’t and I’m sorry about that too.”

“It’s okay.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, no it’s really not. I should’ve been a better husband to you, instead of working all the hours that God sent. I should’ve pulled my head out of my…ass and paid attention. I should’ve realised. Bucky was the one who was there for you when I wasn’t. God, maybe you should’ve married him and not me.” He gives his head a shake.

“Marrying you was never a mistake Tony. We just grew apart. You were driven by a need to succeed and I wasn’t. We’ve got a beautiful daughter out of it, so it wasn’t a complete bust. She’s happy. You’re happy with Pepper, she’s the right one for you. I was just a temporary thing I guess.”

Tony stares back at her, eyes wide with shock.

“That’s not true and you know it. In your own way you helped me get my business off the ground. You supported me, God in those early days your wages from Joe’s were pretty much the only thing that kept us from starvation sometimes. Maybe you think this house, the alimony I pay you is a guilt thing but it isn’t, not really. It’s a thank you. I wouldn’t have this success without you and the part you played in it. You also deserve happiness, wherever it may find you and if that’s with Bucky, then so be it.”

Jess widens her eyes slightly. “So you’re giving us your blessing?”

“Are you in a relationship with him now, apart from the one you’ve always had?”

“None of your business any more Tony, remember?”

He sighs. “I know, it’s still kinda hard, y’know, but you know what? He can probably give you much more than I ever could, his time for one thing and attention and he’s nuts about you. Olivia loves him, God only knows why…”

“You know why Tony and he takes that role very seriously. He takes comfort from it and he’s good at it.”

“Yeah, he is,” Tony conceded and then lifts his eyes and looks at her and his smile is very soft.

“Was that the reason why you two never really got along?” Jess asks him and after a moment Tony nods.

“He always got you Jess. He got you straight away. You had so much in common even back then. You’d be paired together as thick as thieves, laughing at something inconsequential that I couldn’t possibly understand and I think I felt threatened by that. You both shared a bond, something I couldn’t compete with, couldn’t get in between. Who knows what could’ve happened between you if I hadn’t been around…”

“I was _your_ girl Tony. I never strayed, I never cheated….”

Tony’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh I know. I know that but Bucky was an important part of your life. Maybe I was selfish enough to believe that me and Olivia were all that you needed but it wasn’t true. Bucky saw it all and he despised me because he could and there wasn’t anything he could’ve done. He could’ve played on your bond, turned you against me somehow but he never did. As I realise now, it’s just not in his nature.”

“Wow you _have_ changed your tune,” Jess comments, slightly impressed by his honesty.

Tony shrugs a shoulder. “I guess it’s the effect you have on me, Jess.”

Anything further he’s about to say is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the MacPherson Literary Awards arrives.... 
> 
> It's still a little on the angsty side but nowhere near the level of the previous chapter.

**Seventeen:**

Bucky is standing beside the window, staring outwards at the view spread out before and below him. He seems oblivious to what’s going on around him, somewhat calm amidst the hectic evolving around him.

If Jess was paying attention to him, she’d instantly recognise it as an act but right now she’s directing the porters with their luggage, smiling and tipping them as they take their leave.

Finally it’s just the pair of them in what has been listed as being the Presidential Suite and she closes the door with a final click and she leans against it and quietly sighs. She then straightens up, her eyes fixing on him. He hasn’t moved. Hasn’t made a sound. Now she sees him. Recognises the set of his shoulders.

Bucky slowly turns around and observes her as she walks towards him.

“This place is something else, huh?” he comments once she reaches his side. He sees how she scans his face, a slight frown marring her brow and he recognises that look, as if she’s trying to reach into the very heart of him. It takes all that he has not to take a physical step back from her.

“When Steve said that the MacPherson Board had reserved you a suite, I didn’t think it would be this one. It’s huge!” She pauses and then opens her mouth to say something else. His right hand comes up and he places an index finger over her lips and slowly shakes his head.

“Not today,” he murmurs, lowering his hand, briefly replacing his finger with his mouth.

The furnishings are sleek, modern and unashamedly luxurious. Their suite is the only one on this floor and they have access to their own elevator as well as a personal concierge. Bucky takes in their surroundings, an arm sliding around her shoulders, drawing her up close to him.

“It takes some gettin’ used to. Didn’t you stay in places like this when you travelled with Tony?” he asks, looking back at her. He sees her shake her head.

“I didn’t travel very often with him once Olivia arrived. We barely vacationed together. I’d take her down to the beach house for long weekends and he’d be in the city, married to his company. Presidential Suites weren’t the best places for a small child.” She glances at him and sees how he’s watching her. He doesn’t answer, instead he presses a kiss on her forehead.

“Well we’re gonna take advantage of this place, just you and me…”

“After the award dinner tonight,” she reminds him and he just shrugs one shoulder in response.

“And I should warn you, you’ll be the centre of attention tonight with publishing company reps trying to entice you away from Steve’s. You’ll be offered mind boggling sums of money to leave him and sign up with them. You could literally name your terms and you’d get them,” she tells him.

His hold around her shoulders tighten slightly. “And I’m not gonna be interested. They can offer what they want and I won’t leave Galaxy. Be sure to tell people that if they ask you,” he answers.

She smiles at him.  “I’m sure Steve will be relieved by your loyalty.”

“It’s not just that. I was only ever gonna publish through him, no one else. I’m not interested in anyone else, I don’t care what they have to offer.”

“That’s good to know because I’m really not kidding when I said tonight you’d be able to literally name your terms and you’d get them. All the big names will be there and their chief objective will be to get you to sign on the dotted line, _their_ dotted line.” She sees how Bucky rolls his eyes.

“And they’d be wastin’ their time. I’m happy at Galaxy, I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

* * *

 

 “Jess…”

She turns her head when she hears the frustrated tone of his voice and sees him come into the living area. He’s clad in black trousers and a white shirt with the collar turned up and in his left hand is a black tie.

“I can’t seem to…” He lifts the tie and then drops his arm down, shoulders slumping at the same time.

“Don’t worry…” she murmurs as she approaches him and she stands in front of him and slides the offending item of clothing from his fingers and loops it around the collar of his shirt and quickly fastens it. He doesn’t say anything but there’s a slight frown marring his brow and she can see the clouds in his eyes.  She feels her stomach tighten with apprehension.

“Everything okay?” she enquires and he looks at her. He then gives another helpless shrug.

“Just nervous about this award thing.”

She regards him for a second and then takes both hands. At least he’s admitted to her how he’s feeling and why. The brush off from earlier really worried her.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you and so will Steve and Peggy.”

“I guess I’m not looking forward to the attention. People’ll be starin’ at me, at this…” He lifts his left hand slightly, frowning at the same time.

“And you’ll be wearing your glove and people will be staring at you because they’re in awe of you. James Buchanan Barnes, renowned bestselling author. You’re going to be the youngest recipient of the MacPherson award in their history.”

“Am I?”

Jess hears the surprise in his voice and she just nods.

“You are. Didn’t you know?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Well you will be. Of course there will be people there who’ll be curious about what you went through in Iraq and they may ask you about it. It’s up to you whether you want to answer.” She lets go of his hands and with her left she smooths the tie against his chest.

She looks up into his eyes, how his hair tumbles about his face, resting against his cheekbones, his chin.

“Can I offer a suggestion?” she begins, keeping her tone soft and she sees how he frowns.

“Your hair…” she begins and she sees the suspicion bloom in his eyes.

“What about it?”

She hears the matching wariness in his tone and she takes a step away from him.

“Your hair is gorgeous and perfect, don’t worry, I’m not about to suggest an impromptu haircut,” she reassures him.

“Well thank God for that…”

“But when you’re working, you have a habit of tying it away from your face.  Can I suggest something?” She waits and sees how he scans her face.

“Okay…” He watches as she dips her hand into the pocket of the robe that she wears and pulls out a small piece of cardboard and he recognises what are fastened around it. Hair ties. He barely manages to restrain from rolling his eyes.

“I’m not suggesting you tie your hair up tonight…but maybe a part of it, if you’re comfortable with the idea? I could show you, if you’re open to the idea?” She waits and after a moment he sighs raggedly.

“Sure, what the hell…why not. It’s been annoying me anyway.”

His hair is thick, soft and almost silken beneath her fingers as she carefully draws the comb through his hair. She sees the shades of auburn and chestnut that are threaded through it in the light and she gently smiles to herself. She lowers the comb and then separates a section of hair and fastens it with the tie, creating a small bun instead of a pony tail.

“How does that feel?” she asks and she sees how he examines his reflection in the mirror, a hand coming up to carefully touch his hair. Then he gives a small smile and nods.

“It’s okay,” he agrees.

“You wanna keep it in? I won’t be offended if you don’t,” she replies. He catches her gaze in the mirror.

“I’ll keep it in. Thanks, it looks good.”

She rests her hands on his shoulders.

“It does. You suit it.” She smiles when he does.

He captures her hands and draws her around to face him.

“Go finish getting ready. We’re supposed to be leaving in the next ten minutes,” he reminds her.  “Unless you’re going like that?”

Jess looks down at the pale pink cotton robe that she still wears and she chuckles.

“Wouldn’t that surprise a few of the suits, huh? No. I’m going to put my dress on now, as well as my shoes.”

Bucky draws her closer to him and presses a gentle kiss on her mouth before letting go of her hands again. She smiles into his eyes and he watches her walk away.

* * *

 

Bucky is waiting for her in the living area and his eyes slowly widen as he watches her approach.

“Oh man,” he murmurs as she walks towards him.

“Do you like it?” She looks down at the long plain black dress that she wears. It’s a strapless dress that hugs her curves but manages to retain a sense of decorum at the same time. It also looks sensational against her pale skin and blonde hair.

“It’s stunning. You look stunning. _Wow_ ,” he breathes, taking one of her hands and he lifts it so that she slowly twirls beneath his arm. He then draws her up against him and presses a kiss against her cheek.

“I have something for you,” he murmurs against her ear and she draws her head back a little and looks at him. He lets go of her and she watches as he takes something out of the pocket of his jacket. It’s a long narrow box, a shade of iconic blue.

“Bucky…” she murmurs in reproach and he looks at her as he hands it to her.

“I wanted to get you something. I know it’s not your birthday or anything like that but I’m allowed to now, aren’t I? You _are_ my girl?” His eyes hold hers and she sees the challenge in them. “And apart from that, I just wanted to. So open it. Please?” His voice softens very slightly and she smiles, feeling a blush heat her cheeks at the thought of being _his_ girl. Her heart thrums in her chest as she eases the box open and her eyes widen when she sees the chain that rests on its velvet bed. She looks up at him with wide eyes before she scoops it up. A single carat diamond is suspended from it.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“I know you don’t wear a lot of jewellery and what you do wear isn’t over the top.” He takes the chain from her and goes to stand behind her. She waits, her heart fluttering in her chest as she helps him to slowly fasten it. She feels the slight weight of the stone against the hollow of her throat and she touches it, feeling it resting there. Bucky’s hands rest on her shoulders and he presses a gentle kiss on the back of her neck. The heat of his mouth against her skin sends a shiver down her spine. She turns and looks into his eyes. They’re a shade of summer blue right now, the lids heavy. She frames his face with her hands, his beard soft beneath her palms and she presses a single soft kiss on his mouth.

“Thank you. I love it,” she whispers. His eyes slowly open and fix upon her face and she can read the intent plainly. “We need to go, now,” she whispers almost regretfully because right at this moment she wants this moment they’re sharing and to take it somewhere more intimate, more private. She feels his hands gently slide over her shoulders and down to rest at her waist. Her body tingles at the contact.

“We couldn’t play hookey?” he murmurs and she slowly shakes her head.

“You promised to attend and you’ll disappoint a lot of people if you don’t, your publishing team included.” She turns her head slightly when she hears the gentle knock on the door and she looks back at him and takes his hand.

“That’ll be the concierge ready to escort us downstairs. We’ll have fun later, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, sliding a hand into hers and she softly smiles.

“You’d better,” she replies.

* * *

 

He’s quiet in the elevator. He stares straight ahead and she can see that he’s practising deep breathing techniques. He’s nervous. She can understand, it’s his first big event since the publication of his debut novel and tonight he’s receiving an award recognising it’s success. In a room full of people; publishers, agents, his peers. It’s daunting for anyone never mind an ex-soldier who doesn’t do too well with large crowds.

“We can leave any time you want to, remember that,” she murmurs to him and he turns his head and looks at her.

“I’ll be okay. A promise is a promise.” Jess glances at the concierge who is standing in front of them, staring ahead before she slides her hand into his. She feels his fingers curl around hers and she gives them a squeeze. He softly smiles at her before the elevator stops moving and eventually the doors glide open.

She lets go of his hand as they emerge into the lobby. Bucky takes in the crowds of people milling around clad in smart suits and designer dresses. They must all be here for the event and that thought makes him stop dead in his tracks. The hum of conversation is loud and he feels it swamp over him. He takes a deep breath and tries to quell the heavy thumping that’s all of a sudden taken up residence in his chest, the loud buzzing that fills his ears and he feels as though he’s weighted with cement. He can’t breathe. People are turning their heads and looking at him. He wonders whether they know who he is.

Jess realises almost immediately that Bucky has frozen up. She turns and sees him standing stock still beside the elevator doors. His eyes are slightly wide as they dart nervously around the room and she can see that he’s turned pale.

“Bucky.” She keeps her voice low as she goes to him and she slides her hand into his. “Hey, look at me honey.”

His eyes slip to hers but he doesn’t say anything. She can see sweat beading his brow and she tightens her grip on his hand.

“I don’t think I can do this, Jess,” he whispers, as his eyes begin to dart around the large reception area again, taking in all the people present. A camera flash goes off somewhere close by and it makes him flinch.

“Yes you can,” she murmurs. She can see how his chest begins to heave and he shakes his head.

“Too many people. Jess, I gotta go….” He tries to tug his hand from hers but she tightens her grip on him once more.

“No. A promise is a promise Buck,” she reminds him.

“Hey you guys, everything okay?”

Jess almost sags in relief when she hears Steve’s concerned voice.

“Hey Buck, you don’t look too good,” he continues and Jess sees him go to Bucky’s side, touching his arm.

“I gotta get outta here,” Bucky tells him, his words coming out in a panic induced rush. Steve goes to stand in front of his friend and looks him straight in the eye, placing both hands on his shoulders and holding on firmly.

“What we’ve got to do is get you somewhere quieter and a drink,” Steve replies and his grip tightens very slightly on Bucky’s shoulders, no doubt making sure that he doesn’t bolt. He gives him a little shake. “C’mon, the bar is this way,” he continues and leads him off. Jess breathes a quiet sigh of relief as she lets go of his hand and falls into step beside Peggy who looks stunning in a floor length gown of deep scarlet.

Steve manoeuvres Bucky through the crowds of people, almost forming a protective barrier between him and the people around them, making sure that no one approaches him. Jess observes from behind, seeing the attention Bucky is attracting just by being there; the speculative looks as well the disappointment at not being able to speak to him. She gets it; people want to say hello and introduce themselves to the normally elusive best-selling author but Bucky is very close to bolting and they need to get him somewhere quiet as quickly as possible so that they can get him to calm down a little.

* * *

 

Jess finds them an empty table in the corner of the elegant hotel bar and Steve manipulates Bucky into a seat.

“Stay there,” he instructs, pointing at him for good measure. He glances first at Jess and then at his wife. “I’ll get you a drink.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Peggy responds evenly and Jess watches as they make their way to the already crowded bar before she slowly lowers herself into the seat to Bucky’s left.

“Hey…” she murmurs, watching him, seeing how he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, lowering his head. He pulls his fingers through his hair and she watches the hair tie work free and fall to the floor, his hair tumbling forward, hiding his face from view. She hears him quietly exhale. “Bucky,” she continues, reaching for his hand, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. His head comes up and he looks at her.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers.

Jess softly smiles as she lets go of him.

“It’s okay to feel a little overwhelmed. It’s a big event and your first time out. Just remember that we’re all here to help you, it’s your night after all.”

“Yeah, what a great start,” he murmurs, straightening up and staring straight ahead but she sees how his eyes dart around at the other people present.

“You’ll be okay, all you need to do is remember to breathe,” she tells him, watching his face intently, seeing the pallor. He wipes at his face. Realises and reaches behind his head.

“Damn it, the hair tie…”

“Isn’t important.” She reaches across and takes his hand again and this time she gives it a squeeze. “We’ll stay just long enough for you to receive your award and we’ll leave. We’ll go back upstairs and take advantage of the room like you wanted,” she promises and sees how his eyes still on her face. “You _can_ do this. I have faith in you. We all do.”

* * *

 

Peggy picks up the two glasses of white wine and watches her husband collect the two squat whisky tumblers. She looks up at him.

“What?” Steve enquires, seeing the almost smile on his wife’s face, the twinkle in her eye.

“How long do you suppose Bucky and Jess have been sleeping together?” she asks him, indicating the couple with a nod of her head and she sees how his eyes go wide at her words.

“Bucky and Jess? They’re best friends…” His words fade as he turns his head to their table. He sees them seated close to each other, shoulders pressed together and Jess’s head is slightly lowered. Her left hand is in Bucky’s left and his head is tilted her way, listening intently to whatever it is that she’s saying. He looks back at Peggy who regards him with a confident, knowing smile.

“Really? You think that they are?”

“I do. I know they’re best friends. I also know, from you, that Bucky has been in love with her since he first saw her but I’m a detective remember and I can read people and they are definitely sleeping together. There’s a deeper intimacy there for sure.”

Steve turns his head and watches the pair again with enlightened eyes, sees how close together their heads are and notices that Jess is now slowly stroking the back of Bucky’s left hand. He sighs, unable to believe how blind he was. He was his biggest supporter in encouraging him to come clean to Jess about his feelings for her and he’d missed this. All of a sudden Bucky’s embarrassment at his discovery of the black lace panties becomes all too clear. Feels a blush of his own threaten at the connotation.

“Bucky has been in love with her since forever and if anyone can keep him calm tonight, it’s Jess. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now, though I’m surprised he hasn’t told me about it.”

“Maybe he just wants to keep it private for now, wanting to see where it takes them. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

“And now I’m supposed to pretend that I don’t know?” He raises his eyebrows at her.

“Yes you are,” Peggy tells him. Steve sighs once more and slowly shakes his head.

“I dunno if I can, Peg,” he admits.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re going have to, until one of them is ready to share with you.”

* * *

 

Jess removes her hand from his which makes Bucky look up and he sees Steve and Peggy coming back to their table, drinks in hand.

Steve pushes a glass to Bucky as he sits down beside him. “Drink this,” he tells him and Bucky reaches for it. He recognises good scotch when he can smell it and he throws it down in one swallow, earning a roll of the eyes from his best friend. He feels the alcohol burn a familiar path down to his stomach. He put the empty glass on the table in front of him and leans back in his chair, pulling the fingers of his right hand through his hair once again.

“I’m sorry about earlier, guys,” he apologises, his voice low.

“You don’t have to say sorry. We get it,” Steve replies.

“Do you?”

“It’s your first big social event in almost three years, there’s a lot of people here and you’re not used to this much humanity in one room,” he answers, watching him. Bucky just shrugs.

“But you’re okay now?”  Steve sees how he looks at Jess at that question before looking back at him and he smiles softly, ruefully.

“I’m better. I just want this over with so I can leave.”

“You’re gonna have to try and be a little more sociable tonight Buck. There are plenty of people here who want to shake your hand,” Steve reminds him. Bucky just frowns at him.

“What I want is another drink,” he tells him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening continues. Jess is worried about Bucky and she has every reason to be. 
> 
> Meant to say in the previous chapter, the MacPherson Literary Award doesn't exist. (I'm sure you realised that already ;) )

**Eighteen:**

A couple of glasses of good scotch have succeeded in rounding off the sharper edges of his anxiety but he keeps Jess close by all the same as they leave the bar and return to the lobby area.

It’s still busy and the sheer amount of people present is enough to make him swallow nervously but he takes a deep breath and he makes himself smile, shake hands and attempt to be sociable even though his nerve endings prickle and he still feels a bit like a bug stretched out underneath a microscope.

There are photographers around and they swarm around him like bees to the proverbial honey pot. It’s not his idea of a good time but he’s not here to hide so he poses for them, his smile forced and rictus like and after a while they disappear into the crowds apparently satisfied and he allows himself to quietly, deliberately exhale.

He doesn’t remember a lot of the names of the people introduced to him but he smiles graciously as he’s offered congratulations on receiving the MacPherson Award and told how much his work is enjoyed. Jess keeps her promise and she sticks to his side like glue. His beautiful Jess in her black strapless gown, the diamond in the necklace he bought for her glinting in the light. She’s so calm in the centre of all of this but he guesses that she’s had plenty of experience at social events such as this one. She seems to know what to say and how to act. She catches him watching her and offers him a soft smile and he feels the knot of tension currently resident between his shoulder blades slowly begin to loosen. Or maybe it’s the effect of two shots of that scotch, he isn’t entirely sure but he does know that he would never have been able to do this, to stand around and conduct small talk without her beside him.

“Ah, so this is this year’s MacPherson recipient.”

The voice is mature, weathered and coming from behind him. Bucky turns slightly and his eyes widen marginally when he sees who it is.

Alexander Pierce. Respected author. One of the best-selling authors of all time. One of Bucky’s favourite writers growing up and he regards him with a slight smile on his craggy face, cool blue gaze assessing him.

“Mr Pierce. An honour sir,” Bucky murmurs in a low voice and watches the elder man smile and move closer to him, taking Bucky’s proffered hand.

“Mr Barnes,” he replies.

Jess watches from Bucky’s other side and sees the other man’s eyes sweep over her.

“Mrs Stark,” he murmurs. Jess just nods in response. It doesn’t surprise her that he would know who she is, who her ex-husband is.

“You must be very proud Mr Barnes, or should I call you Sergeant Barnes?” Pierce continues and Jess feels the subtle tension that begins to thrum through Bucky’s body at that title. He’s not been called that since he came home; he prefers not to be.

“James. I’m just James…or Bucky if you’d prefer and why must I be very proud exactly?” he replies, his voice low, his tone deliberately neutral.

“Because not only were you been nominated for the MacPherson Award for the first time but you’re also receiving it at such a tender age. What are you, all of thirty?” Pierce smiles at him but Bucky’s response isn’t so friendly.

“I’m thirty five and it’s not something that I lobbied for, sir. I received a letter informing me that I was to be a recipient. I wasn’t even aware there _was_ a nomination process.” He looks across at Steve who is standing opposite them both, drink in hand, watching the exchange carefully.

“There is. I’ve been put forward for nomination several times over the years, never won it though. Perhaps I should’ve served my country. Been taken prisoner. Perhaps the sympathy vote would’ve worked in my favour too.”

Jess subtly inhales at the barb and goes to open her mouth in response but a sharp look from Steve silences anything she’s about to say. Beside her Bucky has gone very still.

“Serving my country was my choice Mr Pierce,” he begins. He regards the older man steadily but Jess can feel the tension coming off him in waves. “But being taken prisoner wasn’t. If you’ll excuse me.” 

Jess’s eyes go wide as Bucky swallows down the last of his drink. He hands her his glass and turns and walks away. She looks back at Pierce who’s regarding Bucky’s departure with what she can only think of as smug satisfaction and it annoys her.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you Mr Pierce. It really doesn’t,” she tells him in a level voice that hides how angry she really is. She then glances at Steve and goes off in search of Bucky, handing off his empty glass and her own to a nearby lingering waiter as she does.

* * *

 

She catches up to him on the other side of the room, leaning up against the wall. He’s ashen pale and breathing heavily.

“Hey…” She reaches for his hand. He shakes his head and begins to turn away from her. She grabs onto his upper arm and pulls him around to face her and she sees how deep the frown is on his face, the distress.

“Hey, hey. _Look_ at me Buck,” she tells him, her voice low and quiet but urgent.

_“Sympathy vote?”_ he hisses and she can hear the pain in his voice as well as the annoyance. She moves closer to him.

“You know that’s bullshit. He’s a jealous old man. Jealous that you’re a recipient with your first nomination, that he’s never been one and that his time is probably running out, the old fool.”

Bucky is filled with restless energy, everything is in motion, his eyes, facial expressions, shoulders and arms. He wants to get out of here.

“I can’t do this Jess. I can’t sit in there with all those people and pretend that everything’s fine. I can’t accept that award and give the impression that my life is just peachy right now. What if it _is_ just a sympathy vote that got me the MacPherson?” he demands.

“And what if it’s not? You have talent and tonight is _your_ moment Bucky, no one else’s. All your hard work has paid off. You won this thing fair and square and first time. It’s a big deal so you’re always gonna get someone wanting to spoil the party. Are you going to let him ruin it for you?” she retorts, glaring into his eyes.

“I looked up to him Jess. You know how much I loved his writing when I was in college and afterwards. Hell, I wanted to _be_ him. Every single book he’s published has gone straight to the top of the New York best seller’s list. Every single one. He’s a goddamn rock star,” he retaliates, his voice an angry hiss.

“Hey…” She slips her hand into his and squeezes it. “Enough now. You’re more than a match for him. You want to talk facts? Your first two books have outsold his top five outright. You’re a New York Best Selling Author just like him. Your third book is top of the list right now. Pierce is jealous, he doesn’t like relinquishing his role as number one to anyone, especially to an upstart half his age who has a MacPherson at the first time of being nominated.” She softly smiles into his eyes. “So if you want us to leave and go back upstairs then we will but you’ll regret it if you do. What I want you to do is straighten up that spine, hold that head up high and walk into that room and accept your award and the accolades and applause that will come with it because they’ll be _yours_. You’ve earned them and you deserve them.” She takes a deep breath, holding eye contact.

“I remember the times you told me that I could be a mother and that I was a good one even when I felt like an absolute failure. You always had my back and I will always have yours. Do I need to remind you of what you went through, back in Iraq? You survived it. That doesn’t make you a weak or a victim of what you went through, it’s made you a survivor. You are stronger than you realise. You’re a survivor Bucky Barnes, don’t you ever forget that.” She stares at him, her gaze steadfast.

Bucky stares at her, lost for words. He then reaches for her, his hands framing her face and he’s kissing her, stealing the breath from her lungs. Warm, passionate. Filled with promise. He draws back from her and stares into her eyes.

“Do you still want to leave?” she asks, a little stunned by his public embrace. He slowly shakes his head.

“Good.” As he lowers his hands, she turns her head to see the main doors to the ballroom hosting the event begin to open, “because it’s time to go inside.”

* * *

 

“Is there something I should know?” Steve’s voice is quiet in her ear. Bucky is in front of her, being escorted to their table by a representative of the MacPherson board and Jess glances up at Steve as she follows.

“About what?”

“I saw him kiss you right before we went in.”

“He’s kissed me before Steve,” she responds in a deliberately mild tone.

“Not like that he hasn’t.” Steve’s voice is confident and she glances at him again.

“Sure he has…”

Her eyes slowly widen as realisation dawns.

_He knows_.

Jess feels her cheeks begin to warm with what feels like a blush before she glances past him and she sees Peggy’s expression. The amusement in her dark brown eyes. Peggy also knows, she will no doubt have guessed first and told her husband. Well she’s a cop goddammit, of _course_ she’s figured it out.

“Okay, yeah. We’re involved if that’s what you’re wanting to know. Bucky wanted to keep it between us for a little while otherwise you would’ve known sooner.”

“Well that kiss in the lobby pretty much announced it to the whole world. There were photographers present, you’d better warn Bucky because that kiss was recorded for posterity,” Steve tells her. 

Jess rolls her eyes.  “I’ll warn him,” she promises.

“You’re worried about him,” Peggy intervenes and it’s on the tip of Jess’s tongue to deny it but she sighs and she nods.

“I am. Pierce’s barb affected him more than I thought it would, than _he_ thought it would. He’s already tense and nervous about tonight, we need to keep a closer eye on him for the rest of the evening.”

“You think he might bolt?” Steve sounds worried and she just nods.

“He might.”

“Then we’ll watch him,” Steve tells her.

* * *

 

“What were you three in deep conversation about?” Bucky asks as she takes her seat beside him. She looks into his eyes and she smiles, even though her throat is clogged with worry for him.

“We’ve been busted. Steve and Peggy know about us.”

She sees the surprise bloom in his eyes and she almost chuckles at it. “Well, you kissed me in the lobby, in front of everyone. It wasn’t going to go unnoticed. Steve thinks photographers might have got it on film too.” She hears his ragged sigh.

“Damn it,” he mutters with a shake of his head. She reaches for his hand under the table and takes it and gives it a squeeze.

“I know you wanted to keep it private, just between you and me but your best friend knows now. We can still keep it personal but I’m kinda glad he knows, we don’t have to sneak around and pretend that we’re only friends now.”

“Yeah. Perhaps we can tell Olivia when she gets back, if you’re okay with that?” he replies.

“Sure, we can tell her.”  She squeezes his hand again. “Are you okay?”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep askin’ me that.”

“You’re out of your comfort zone tonight, of course I’m going to ask you. Don’t be afraid to let me know when you’re done, okay? We can leave whenever you want.”

“So you keep telling me,” he whispers against her ear and turns his head as the evening begins.

* * *

 

There’s been no expense spared where the dinner is concerned; top New York chefs serving up their finest menu accompanied by expensive wines, champagne and spirits. They all flow like water. Jess tries to relax, to enjoy the evening but she can sense that Bucky is on edge and in turn it sets her on edge too. He’s eating very little but drinking a lot; his glass is never empty whether it’s scotch or it’s wine. She can tell that he’s almost jumping out of his skin at the exposure this evening is costing him. He’s attempting to make polite conversation but he’s struggling though every time he looks at Jess, he smiles at her as if everything is okay but she knows him and he’s not.

Finally the dinner is over and the awards ceremony begins. They watch each recipient receive their award, applauding each success along with everyone else present in the ballroom.

“Our final award of the evening is our most prestigious and our most sought after,” the compere begins. Jess looks at Bucky. He’s staring at the stage, at the speaker and she can see that he’s grown pale, a thin sheen of perspiration coats his forehead. Slowly she turns her head to look at Steve to see him observing his friend also.

“James Buchanan Barnes has stunned the literary world with his Winter Soldier series of novels. The debut, The Line, which we’re honouring tonight, was released the year after his rescue from insurgent forces and sold a million copies in the first week alone. Current copies sold stand at close to eight million and at its height, it’s estimated that a copy was sold in a book store somewhere in America every twenty minutes.  The follow up sold double that in the same period of time and the third, released only two weeks ago, is on course to beat that record comfortably. James is notoriously private but has graciously accepted our invitation to receive his award in person tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, the recipient for this year’s MacPherson Literary Award, James Buchanan Barnes.”

A light goes on above their table, temporarily blinding him as all around him applause explodes. Bucky takes in his surroundings, at the people getting to their feet, clapping, smiling, accepting him and he feels his heart bounce hard in his chest. He looks at Jess and sees her rise to her feet also, applauding with the rest of them, a familiar smile on her face. He takes a deep breath and slowly rises to his feet. He stands still for a moment, not sure whether his knees can support his weight but eventually he begins to make his way towards the stage.

* * *

 

All he’s aware of is the sound of his breathing echoing loudly in his ears and the steady hard pound of his heartbeat. He’s sure he can feel his entire body vibrate from the force of it. He takes a slow deep breath as he nods acknowledgement, not making eye contact with anyone as his head fills with white noise, growing louder as he climbs the staircase and walks onto the stage.

He tells himself that he can do this. Over and over again like a mantra. He can do this.

He walks towards the small group of people waiting for him. Applauding and smiling. His throat feels dry and his heart is still pounding. His stomach begins to roll. His legs feel like lead. God he hopes he isn’t going to throw up.

The award is heavy he realises as he accepts it from the head of the MacPherson Board, a man whose name he can’t remember but is certain that MacPherson features in there somewhere. It’s made of crystal, fashioned into what looks like a flame with a gold coloured base. There’s something engraved on it but he can’t really make it out. He turns to face his audience.

Jess watches him and she recognises his smile. It’s nowhere near his eyes. Butterflies begin their dance in the pit of her stomach.

The applause dies away and a hush falls over the ballroom. She sees how Bucky takes them all in, his eyes sliding over their faces, seeing their expectancy, wanting to know his secrets such as they are. Behind him is a white screen and images are appearing on it. She sees how he turns his head to look at it. There are pictures of his books, their dust jackets, his name emblazoned on the front. Photographs from press events. In one or two of them he’s even smiling a little. And then a picture of the soldier he once was appears. Jess’s eyes rest on it. He’s clad in his dress uniform; standing proud, his spine absolutely straight, staring with confidence into the camera lens, unaware of the horror waiting for him. Unknowing of it. She sees how he notices it too, sees how he realises the difference. His hair is longer now, he has a beard and if you get close enough to him, you’ll also see the torment in his eyes that he tries to anaesthetise with alcohol. The picture holds his attention for a moment or two before he slowly turns his head back to his audience.

And she can see the torment is back, bigger and brighter than ever. Jess knows in that instance that his being here was a mistake and that she needs to get him out of here.

“Umm…”

Jess takes a slow deep breath and she looks at Steve. She can see the mild frown on his face. He’s beginning to realise it too.

“Thank you. It’s an… honour… to be nominated, even more so to be a …recipient. I…appreciate… the… consideration…” His voice trails away and he looks across the audience. He then takes a deep breath and looks away and down at his feet. Jess recognises the expression that crosses his face at that point in time.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs and he’s heading off stage, walking quickly.

“Damn it,” Jess hisses under her breath. She grabs her purse and gets to her feet and ignoring the quiet gasp that echoes around the ball room, the murmur of confusion that buzzes around her, weaves her way around the tables in the direction Bucky has just gone.

She sees a young man standing in a curtained off back stage area. He’s looking around in bewilderment, the MacPherson Award cradled awkwardly in his arms.

“The man who gave you that, where did he go?” Jess asks him.

“Through that door there,” the man answers, indicating a door to his right that she guesses leads out into the street.

“Jess…”

She turns her head when she hears Steve’s voice and sees him catch up to her, Peggy close behind.

“Well…we thought he might bolt. I just didn’t expect him to do it right at that moment,” she murmurs as she opens her purse.

“If you’re thinking of calling him, he won’t answer,” Peggy interrupts and Jess looks at her to see her holding Bucky’s phone. “He left it at the table.”

“Oh God,” Jess whispers, her shoulders sagging. She takes the phone from Peggy and drops it into her purse beside her own.

“Do you know where he’ll go?” Steve asks. There are a few places he might bolt to but Jess shakes her head and hurries to the exit and she pushes the door open. Home perhaps but she doubts that he has his keys. She’s right about the exit though, it leads out onto a side alley. She goes outside, ignoring the slight chill of the evening. It’s filled with shadows. She looks up and down but can see no sign of him. She takes a deep breath and heads towards the main street. The sidewalks are busy but she pays them no heed as her eyes try to pick Bucky out but it’s impossible. She sighs, not knowing what to do.

“Can you see him?” Steve asks as he catches up and Jess shakes her head still scanning the crowds. Most of the stores are beginning to close for the evening, all except a store down the street. The lights seem to be still blazing brightly and an idea occurs to her and she heads towards the store as fast as her four inch heels will take her. She’s a bit of an incongruity in her strapless designer gown and purse but she pays no attention to any second looks that she receives.

It’s a book store. It’s also beginning to close for the night she realises as she approaches the door and she makes eye contact with the store owner as she turns the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Jess looks past her and peers through the glazed door and she can see someone seated inside, cast in silhouette. He’s leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees but there’s no mistaking that over long hair, or the glove covering the left hand. She turns her head as Steve catches up to her once more.

“He’s in here. Stay where you are, I’ll go in and see if he’ll talk to me. If he tries to make a run for it, you can go after him.”

She sees how Steve frowns but he nods and Jess goes inside. Pulling up short when she sees the store owner standing just a few feet away.  It’s quiet in here, Jess realises as she shuts the door behind her. Another reason why he’d be in here. Close to closing means next to no one in the store.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re about to close for the night,” she’s told. Jess looks at her. She looks to be about the same age as her with shoulder length red hair, pale skin and, as she gets closer, pale green eyes.

“I’m not here to shop, I’m here to talk to the man by the cash register. James Barnes?”

“You’re a friend?” the owner enquires after turning her head to look at him. “He just came in, he’s upset. I was in the process of making him some coffee and closing the store for the night. He looks like he could use the quiet.”

“He does. I need to talk to him.”

The assistant casts her a nervous look and Jess quietly sighs.

“I’m his friend, his best friend. We were close by, at the New York Literary Awards. My name is Jess Stark. The man outside waiting is his publisher, Steve Rogers from Galaxy Publishing. We’re both good friends of Bucky’s.”

The woman seems to blink at the use of his nickname. Then she smiles gently.

“Of course. How could I not recognise you? Go ahead. Would you like some coffee also?”

“Thank you but no. Bucky prefers his black and strong. No cream or sugar.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

Jess watches the store owner walk away.

* * *

 

She takes a deep breath and slowly approaches him, ignoring the rows of tall wooden book cases, sentry straight with their variety of displays, along with tables filled with the latest or most popular publications. She can see a display of Bucky’s books not far away, the latest release taking centre stage.

“Bucky,” she murmurs and sees how his head snaps up and turn in her direction. Sees his surprise and at the same time how over bright his gaze is.

“How…” He looks away again, back down at his hands.

“I know you Buck, I think you forget that sometimes. You like the quiet of book stores, especially when you’re feeling stressed. You’re stressed now and it’s close to closing with next to no one here and no book seller worth their salt is gonna say no to James Buchanan Barnes turning up on their doorstep unannounced,” she murmurs, dragging an upholstered chair over beside his and sinking down onto it.

“I guess people are talkin’, huh?” he mutters.

Jess sighs, placing her purse down on the floor by her feet. Her toes are aching in these four inch heels and she wonders whether the store owner would mind if she kicked them off.

“Well they were a little taken aback,” she answers and he slides another look at her face.

“But you weren’t.”

Jess shakes her head. “No. Not really. You’ve been on edge all evening, I was just waiting to see what would tip you over. I thought Pierce had done the trick but no… I’m guessing it was the old army picture, right?”

He doesn’t immediately answer and the silence begins to stretch out between them.

“Yeah,” he finally admits, “It was like lookin’ at a stranger. Took a minute for me to realise that I was looking at an old picture of me.” His voice is low, husky.

“Took me by surprise too. They said they wanted to use some old pictures of you. I just assumed they were going to use photos from around the time your first book was published. I don’t know where they got that one from.”

“I guess you can find anythin’ online these days,” he replies, looking away again.

Jess regards him.

“Attending the dinner tonight was a mistake. We should’ve done what we usually do and sent Steve in your place.”

His eyes lift to hers.

“I promised I’d take you. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my end of the bargain.”

“No, you did. I think if they hadn’t gone ahead with the photo display, you would’ve managed okay.”

“If Alexander Pierce hadn’t said what he said…”

“I thought we’d decided Alexander Pierce was just a jealous old man acting out?” she reminds him. She sees the faintest hint of a smile cross his face at that remark and anything else he’s about to say is interrupted by the return of the store owner who is carrying a coffee cup. Bucky straightens up and accepts it from her.

“Thank you Sarah, this is very kind of you,” he murmurs, holding it between both hands and offering her another faint smile.

Jess watches the pink blush that stains the store owner’s cheeks, the shy smile in response. The nervous glance she sends her way.

“I’m glad to be able to help, even if it’s just offering you somewhere quiet to sit with a cup of coffee.”

“We won’t stay long, don’t worry,” he replies and sees how she shakes her head.

“Oh no, there’s no rush, I just had stock taking to look forward to in my immediate future. Please, take your time, both of you.” She glances Jess’s way again as she says this.

“I appreciate your kindness. If you like…I could maybe sign some of my books for you to sell…as a thank you?” he offers and sees how her eyes widen with surprise.

“Oh no…you don’t have to…”

“Yeah, I do. I really do and I want to.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I am. Why don’t you set a table up and I’ll take myself and my coffee over and get started. As many as you want signed.”

Jess watches how she looks between them both, rendered speechless by his act of generosity.

“Okay. And thank you.”

Bucky’s gentle smile is genuine. “No problem,” he reassures her.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night goes from bad to worse....

**Nineteen:**

Bucky is sitting at a reading table flanked by a pile of his latest novel. Jess sits nearby and watches as he carefully signs his name on the title page of each one, passing them across to Sarah when he’s done.

Steve and Peggy have now joined them, sitting opposite him, both nursing cups of coffee. On the table in between them all is the MacPherson Award which seems to glow in the subtle lighting. Bucky doesn’t once look at it as he continues to sign the pile of books.

Nobody feels much like talking.

Presently he’s finished and Jess watches how he sits back in his seat and quietly sighs, lifting his arms, arching his spine a little and pulling his fingers through his hair. She thinks he’s looks tired.

“So what now, Buck?” Steve asks, his voice low. Bucky regards him as he lowers his arms.

“I’m sorry about tonight.”

“That’s not important, I’m askin’ what now?”

Bucky frowns. “Whaddaya mean?”

“I mean the future. Tonight wasn’t a good idea. You were nervous, Pierce didn’t help matters any. In hindsight we shoulda done what we usually do but I gotta ask, are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding away, sending me to receive your awards because you’ll be nominated again if the reviews for your latest book are anythin’ to go by.”

“Then I won’t go to any of them. It’s no big deal.” He pushes back in his seat and makes to get to his feet.

“Bucky, you need to talk to someone about why this happened, why it’s still happening.”

Bucky freezes at the sound of Steve’s weary voice.

“You can’t keep doin’ this, avoiding talking about what happened to you in Iraq, what those assholes did to you. Not anymore, not when you have so much more at stake.” He glances at Jess as he says this and she freezes. Her attention flicks back to Bucky.

“I’ve been doin’ okay so far.” Bucky retorts, his voice low.

“You haven’t. You’ve just been coping. And you weren’t sleeping with Jess then. The heavy drinking, sometimes to the point of blacking out? That’s not doing okay Buck and you know it. I want you to get some help, to talk to someone.”

“And I guess you know just the perfect person, right?” Bucky all but snarls out.

Steve sighs, meeting his angry gaze head on. “I do, actually. His name is Sam Wilson, he’s ex-military and very very good at his job.”

“Which is what exactly apart from being an ex-soldier?”

“He’s a psychiatrist who specialises in PTSD. He served his country with honour, he lost his best friend in action. He helps other Vets come to terms with what they went through. He’s a good guy, I think you’d like him. I know you can trust him.”

“I don’t know him _to_ trust him Steve.”

Bucky has become very calm but Jess can hear the thread of anger in his voice, veiled in something close to sarcasm.

“Get to know him, name your terms.”

“Name my terms? How about you leave me the fuck alone to deal with this in my own way, huh?” He does get to his feet this time and Jess hears the calm begin to leech away. She follows suit.

“Bucky…”

“Do you agree with Steve?” he demands, his voice sharpening, becoming defensive. Jess stares at him and she takes a breath and feels a lump begin to form in her throat.

“I do,” she confesses and she sees how his eyes go wide.

“Damn it Jess…” he hisses. She skirts around the table.

“You know I do Bucky. How many times have I asked you the same thing? How many times have I asked you to talk to someone? This shouldn’t be such a big shock to you that I feel this way.”

“I thought you were my girl?”

“And I am, I always will be but Bucky, you _need_ help.” She reaches for his hand but he shrugs her off. His expression changes, his eyes are filled with hurt. He shakes his head and strides away.

“Where are you going?” she calls after him. She doesn’t see Steve get to his feet until he’s right in front of her. He takes her hands and holds her in place.

“Let him go, you know what he’s like when he’s angry and I’ve made him mad tonight.” They hear the front door open and then slam shut. She sags a little before she looks up at him.

“Maybe we should’ve chosen our moment, staged our intervention somewhere other than a book store when he’s not long come down from an anxiety attack,” she murmurs, all of a sudden very tired.

“Maybe but it’s out in the open now. It’s gone on for long enough Jess, you have to agree with me on that one?” Steve replies and she sighs and slowly nods. She then looks at Sarah, who’s witnessed everything with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry about all of this but as you’ve seen, it’s not been a good day for Bucky today. Let me help you with the books he signed for you and we’ll get out of your hair and let you close up the store,” she apologises.

* * *

 

The MacPherson Award is heavy in Jess’s arms as the three of them walk back to the hotel. They don’t speak and she feels the weight in her heart as well as the one in her arms. She’s worried about Bucky, worried where he might go, what he might do. He isn’t in the best state of mind. She can’t even call him because she still has his phone in her purse. She kind of feels like Cinderella, all dressed up with nowhere to go in a designer dress and four inch heels, her Prince Charming nowhere in sight.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now Jess,” Steve tells her once they enter the hotel lobby and the smile she offers him is slow and tired looking.

“I’ll be okay, I’m just gonna head up to our suite, get changed and maybe try and grab a little sleep. Wait and see if he comes back before dawn…”

“If he isn’t, let me know, I can put the word out with my colleagues. You just need to say the word,” Peggy intervenes.  Jess regards her and smiles softly.

“I’m just sorry you guys got dragged into all of this. It was a mistake bringing him here when he obviously wasn’t ready. He only did it to please me.”

“I heard that he coped fantastically well with the signing last week.”

“He did but I think because it was more controlled, he felt more comfortable.” She doesn’t tell him about finding him huddled up in the corner of his bedroom the next morning though but it helps to galvanise her decision to try and get Bucky to talk to someone.

“I’m gonna head up now.” She gives each of them a one armed hug and they watch her head to the bank of elevators.

“Do you want me to put an APB out on him?” Peggy asks him. Steve gives a sigh and looks at her. He then shakes his head.

“For all we know, he’s takin’ a walk round the block to cool off. Let’s wait and see what happens first.”

* * *

 

Jess lets herself into the suite and carefully closes the door behind her. She leans against it for a moment and quietly sighs. She then moves further into the lounge area and places the heavy award on the coffee table and she stares at it for a moment. His name is engraved on the brass base as well as the title of the novel that won him the award.  

She remembers reading the first draft. How he’d dumped the folder onto her lap and asked her opinion on it. She remembers it took her all night to read it and she was immediately captured by the quality of writing as well as the brutal honesty of the storyline. She always thought there was a touch of the autobiographical in the story given what he’d undergone in Iraq but he never confirmed it when she asked. Neither had he denied it.

She’d given Steve a copy of the manuscript and within a short period of time Bucky was signed up and the book went into print three months after that.

She kicks off her shoes and heads into the bedroom and looks at the king sized bed she was looking forward to sharing with him tonight. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get that opportunity but experience tells her that it’s unlikely. He was upset when he left them and she knows that his first instinct is to hit a bar and attempt to drink it dry when he isn’t in the right frame of mind. He might not come back tonight, he might not surface for a few days. It wouldn’t be the first time. A thought occurs to her and she heads back into the lounge, picking up her evening purse which she’d dropped beside the award. She opens it and takes out her phone. She pulls up the contact list and scrolls through it until she gets to the number she’s looking for and presses ‘connect’.

A moment or two passes as she listens to it ring and finally it connects.

“Tim, it’s Jess. Don’t say anything right now. Is Bucky with you?” Jess begins before he can say anything.

“Hey sweetheart!” he replies jovially and she can hear the dull throb of music in the background as well as the buzz of conversation. “Listen, I can’t really hear you in here, why don’t I go somewhere quieter where you and I can talk?” His voice all of a sudden becomes muffled and she hears him tell someone that it’s the wife calling and she understands and feels relief go through her at the same time. Bucky is with him. He wouldn't lie otherwise.

A moment or two passes where she hears more static and then it fades away as it becomes quieter.

“Okay Jess. Yeah, he’s here. He showed up about ten minutes ago and he’s upset. He’s tryin’ to hide it from me but I can tell. I think he’s in the mood to get good and drunk.”

Jess exhales quietly, briefly closing her eyes.

“Keep him safe for me will ya Tim?” Tim Dugan is an old army buddy of Bucky’s, they served together in Iraq and he was one of Bucky’s first visitors when he returned stateside. He’s a tall bluff jovial man, broad shouldered with startling blue eyes and golden blond hair and a thick blond moustache. You heard Tim before you saw him. He’s loud, unapologetic but unquestionably loyal. His nickname within the 107th was ‘Dum Dum’.

“Sure. Can I ask what happened?”

Her eyes open. “He attended the New York Literary Awards tonight, accepted the Macpherson Award for his first book and it didn’t end so well. He’s mad at Steve and me because we think he needs help and you know what he’s like when he’s pissed off.”

“Well that explains the fancy duds. What do you want me to do?” His voice warms a little more. Jess swallows against the worry that’s threatening to overwhelm her. Her first instinct is to ask him where they are so she can come down to the bar herself and try and talk to him but the minute the thought enters her head she discards it. As Tim has said, he’s upset and trying to hide it. If he sees her, he might not try to hide it as much and could make everything so much worse. She takes a slow breath instead.

“Make sure to keep him out of trouble and get him back to me in one piece and please don’t tell him I called. Just keep him safe.”

“Anything for you doll. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Sure thing and thank you.” The strength of emotion is bringing her close to tears.

“No problem,” he replies warmly and disconnects. Jess does the same and gives a ragged sigh, brushing away the stray tears on her cheeks before she sends Steve a quick text to tell him who Bucky is with and that he’ll be okay.

* * *

 

Someone is knocking on her door. It pulls her out of a restless sleep and as she comes to, she realises that she’s only been asleep for a couple of hours. Head thick, she climbs out of bed and pulls on a robe and she stumbles to the door, hoping that it’s Bucky. More than likely he’ll be drunk and a little repentant but he’ll be safe.

It’s Peggy and Steve and both have grave expressions on their faces and her stomach drops.

“Did we wake you?” Peggy enquires and Jess stares somewhat blankly at her, a little disappointed that it isn’t Bucky.

“Can we come in?” Steve adds. Jess slowly looks at him, still waiting for the fog to clear from her sleep soaked brain.

“What’s going on? What’s happened?” she murmurs and tries to ignore the tremble of fear that has now taken up residence inside of her.

“Nothing terrible has happened to him Jess, don’t worry,” Steve continues and Jess sighs raggedly and opens the door wider allowing the couple inside.

“But something obviously has,” she answers.

She closes the door behind them, following them into the lounge area, pulling her robe tighter around her body as she does.

“Steve got a call from Tim Dugan about thirty minutes ago. Bucky was arrested.” Peggy begins and Jess frowns, shaking her head as if to clear away cobwebs. Tim called Steve?

“Why would Tim call you?” she enquires, looking at him.

“Because I’m married to a cop…” Steve answers, his voice trailing away. “And he didn’t want to worry you,” he adds.

Jess rolls her eyes at this. “Too late,” she murmurs

Arrested. It’s not the first time. She’s bailed him out more than once in the past. It’s usually booze induced, he spends the night in the local drunk tank before being turned loose with a warning the following morning, one he almost never heeds.

“I have to admit, it’s been a while. So tell me, what’s he done this time?” she sighs, sitting down on one of the couches, lowering her head, feeling as though it weighs a thousand pounds.

Bolting from a prestigious literary awards and now this?

Par for the course for James Barnes when he’s at his worst.

“Brawling. A couple of guys recognised him, made comments about his service record and called him a coward…” Steve begins.

“Oh God…”

“According to Tim, he ignored them or at least he tried to but given what kinda evening he’d already had and the fact that they wouldn’t leave him alone, well…he reacted and it wasn’t pretty,” he continues.

“Allegedly he took both of them down single handed. What he didn’t know was that they’d come with friends. Another four so he’s pretty banged up but he’ll be okay.” He sees Jess go pale.

“He won’t be charged. More than one patron at the bar said that he was minding his own business, that these idiots started it, provoked him and he was defending himself but he’s in a cell, waiting for me to go and spring him. We thought that perhaps you should come along too,” Peggy tells her, her tone softer and Jess looks at her and just nods.

“Give me a few minutes to get dressed,” she answers and both of them watch her disappear into one of the bedrooms.

She emerges ten minutes later in jeans and a t-shirt and a short black leather jacket. Her hair is combed but she’s still pale and uptight.

* * *

 

They catch a cab to the police precinct and Jess’s heart is thumping in her chest by the time that they arrive. She pauses on the sidewalk and stares up at the sky. It’s barely five am and the sky is turning a purplish pink. She takes in the police cars parked out front as well as cops and other personnel going in and out of the building in front of her. Even at this hour it’s a hive of activity.

“You ready?” Peggy’s voice is soft. Jess looks at her and she just nods.

“This way then,” she tells her and Jess follows her and Steve inside.

It’s noisy, even this early in the morning it’s noisy.

“Wait here,” Peggy instructs and Jess stands obediently still beside Steve and watches Peggy approach the cop minding the precinct front desk. They chat for a moment or two before she looks back at them, beckons them over.

“With me,” she instructs and the pair follow her through a set of double doors and along a short corridor which opens out into a larger room cluttered with desks, ringing telephones, cops and other people.

 “Wait here at my desk, I’ll be a little while,” she tells them, pointing to an empty desk with a couple of chairs beside it. The surface contains a computer monitor and keyboard and piles of folders. Jess sees a framed photo of Steve and Peggy in each other’s arms in one corner. Slowly she lowers herself onto one of the seats, her eyes still taking in the action all around her.

* * *

 

Bucky lifts his head when he hears footsteps pause outside of his cell. Sees Peggy standing on the other side of the bars, just regarding him. She’s wearing jeans and a long sleeved blue t-shirt of some description. Even in casual clothes, she’s every bit a police detective and right now her dark brown eyes regard him with little humour.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Mr Barnes,” she begins. Cut glass English accent, ice cold and unamused and he has to admit, he deserves it. He lowers his head and stares at his hands again.

He hears the sound of a key being turned in a lock and the aged squeak of old metal as the cell door is opened. He lifts his head once more and watches Peggy enter, closing the door behind her with a definitive clang and he tries not to wince too hard at the noise it makes.

“You must have quite the hangover,” she tells him as she crosses the small space to stand opposite him. He’s alone in here, kept apart from the rest of the residents of the drunk tank through his connection to Detective First Class Peggy Carter.

He answers with a single shouldered shrug, looking away.

“You know, you don’t have to do this, bailing me out because of Steve…I’m willin’ and able to handle the consequences of what happened at the bar last night.” His voice is low, his attention at floor level again, staring at the dirt and grime ingrained cheap flooring.

“I’m sure you are, if you were being charged with anything, which you’re not,” Peggy answers and this time Bucky’s head snaps back up and he stares at her in surprise and sees the slow smile Peggy gifts him.

“Your face…” She walks slowly towards the cot he’s sitting on the side of and slowly lowers herself down beside him. “You’re going to have one hell of a shiner. I don’t think I want to see the other guys. How many of them were there? Two? Three? Four?” She slowly shakes her head as she looks away from him.

“You said I won’t be charged?” She turns her head back in his direction when she hears his disbelief. She regards him for a moment. Still clad in his suit from the night before but he looks like he’s had a night on the tiles. He reeks of booze, it seems to leak from every pore. There’s nothing neat or immaculate about him right now. Her eyes rest briefly on the blood stains on the collar of his shirt and she wonders briefly whether it's his blood or someone else's.

“No. You won’t be. There were witnesses to the fight in the bar you were in. They’re willing to stand up for you and give evidence in your defence if necessary. The local cops have already taken several statements from people who were there. Plus there were cameras inside that corroborate it all. You acted in self-defence. You won’t be charged.”

“I don’t understand…this isn’t the first time this has happened…” His words fade into confusion when he hears her sigh.

“It isn’t, you’re right about that but people seem to like you Bucky, despite everything. People are willing to cut you a break.”

Despite everything. That he’s a fuck up of the first order.

“But maybe not you so much,” he responds, the confusion clearing.

He sees the softest of smiles cross Peggy Carter’s face as she mulls this over.

“Actually, I do like you. More than you probably realise,” she informs him and his eyes widen a little at her statement.

More than he deserves, he wants to tack on but doesn’t.

“We have a person in common, Bucky. We both have Steve in our lives and I realised quite quickly that if I were to have a friendship or even a relationship with him then I had to get to know you, his best friend, first.”

“Best friends since school,” Bucky murmurs.

“Yeah, he told me. He was the small skinny kid, you defended him against the class bully.”

Bucky begins to smile at the old memory until he feels the cut on his lower lip begin to pull and stops.

“Hard to believe he was ever small or skinny, right? Suffered from asthma, was always sick when it got too cold or too damp.”

“A very late bloomer indeed,” Peggy agrees as she thinks about her six feet plus tall broad shouldered blond husband.

“My point being, you were part of his deal. To accept him, I had to accept you and I did, I have. I did the same with Jess. You were the three Musketeers, Amigos or whatever and it’s never going to be any different.”

Another faint smile crosses her face.

“The stories he told me about you both, you especially. The trouble you got into, I don’t know how you both survived into adulthood, I really don’t. I look at you now and I wish I’d known the boy, the man Steve and Jess remember, before Iraq.”

Bucky looks away, huffs out a sigh and stares at the wall in front of him.

“Sometimes I wish I did too. Feels like he was someone else.” His voice is low.

“I’m not asking you to share what you went through in Iraq with me. If you’re ever able to, I think you should seriously consider talking to a counsellor, someone who could help you because you do need help with the PTSD that you so obviously have.”

Bucky looks back at her, feeling something prickle up and down his spine.

“And you know I have this, how?”

“Because I’ve seen it before. On the job…other detectives who’ve seen some horrific scenes of crime, dealt with awful trauma day to day and they’re like you. They pretend that they’re okay, refuse to talk about it, don’t think that they _need_ to talk about it and eventually they shut down. They block it out with alcohol and worse. They think because they’re New York’s finest, they should be able to take it, shoulder it and deal with it but ultimately it ends up costing them everything they hold dear; their sanity, their relationships, their jobs and sometimes even their lives.”

“And you think that’ll happen to me?” Peggy hears the challenge and she regards him somewhat calmly.

“Hasn’t it?”

Her words hang on the early morning air and after a moment she sighs.

“Look, I can see that you’re a good guy. You’re a good friend to Steve, you’re in love with Jess and you have a chance of something really special with her. Then there’s Olivia. I’ve noticed how great you are with her and if you want that future with them both in it, then you need to be brave enough to take that first difficult step in reaching out and asking for help.”

“Did Steve put you up to this pep talk?” he demands, his mood turning spiky and Peggy shakes her head.

“Have you ever known Steve to ask me to speak on his behalf or even try to tell me what to do?” she enquires, her tone saccharine sweet but steely underneath. Bucky sighs, he has to admit, it’s not in Steve’s nature to do that and Peggy wouldn’t unless for a damned good reason, even if _he’s_ the damned good reason. Steve wouldn’t ask her to speak on his behalf because that would be Jess’s job. Where he’s concerned, they tend to work in tandem.

“Steve and Jess are waiting for you upstairs. You have people in your corner ready and willing to fight for you. You have to know that there’s no shame in asking for their help because they’re more than willing to give it to you.”

He watches as she gets to her feet and heads for the cell door. She pauses beside it and looks back at him.

“I’m going to go upstairs and I’ll bring them down to see you shortly. Think about what I’ve said.”

She unlocks the door and steps through, locking it behind her and he watches her walk away.

* * *

 

“You okay Jess?” Steve asks and her head snaps around from taking in her surroundings, to look at him.

“I will be once I’ve seen him, spoken to him. If he’ll talk to me, that is,” she replies, her voice quiet and sad.

“He’ll talk to you, don’t worry.”

Jess sighs raggedly.

“Tonight has been an absolute disaster from beginning to end, hasn’t it?”

“Well it hasn’t exactly been a rip-roaring success but I wouldn’t say it was a disaster. He chose to attend, he could’ve changed his mind at any minute but he obviously thought he could handle it.”

“I’m going to try and talk him into seeing your friend Sam. Is he as good as you say he is?”

Steve just nods. “He is. He’s a good guy. Helped me a lot.”

Jess stares at him, somewhat surprised by his confession.

“What? Are you surprised that I talked to someone in a professional capacity? Didn’t you?” he continues.

Jess slowly shakes her head. “I just threw myself into taking care of Olivia. I didn’t let myself feel anything. Maybe I should’ve talked to someone, I don’t know. I just pushed it all down.” She shrugs restlessly, looking away, at anything except at him.

“Yeah you did. So getting that visit from his CO….”

“Messed me up somewhat I think. It was the death knell of my marriage, that’s for sure.” She sees the surprise in Steve’s eyes at her confession. “The marriage was in trouble for a long time, Steve. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. It struggled massively when I thought Bucky was dead and collapsed completely when I found out he was alive. Neither of us wanted to pretend anymore and it was the best thing we ever did, for our sake as well as Olivia’s. She’s much happier with her parents divorced and friends rather than still married and no doubt hating each other.”

“It’s still sad.”

Jess shrugs. “It’s ancient history now. Tony is happy with Pepper and he’s a great dad to his daughter. I’m with Bucky now. Or I was. God knows what he’ll say when I see him again.” She looks down at her hands.

“You’re his girl, he said so. It’s always been the case,” Steve gently reminds her and she looks up and into his eyes and they’re so sad.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Her voice is soft and she sees the soft frown that comes and goes across Steve’s face.

“Knew what?”

“That Bucky had feelings for me. You’re his best friend, of course you knew.”

Steve regards her for a moment and then he nods. “Yeah, I did. He didn’t tell me though, I guessed.”

“He never told me,” she whispers.

“He wouldn’t. You were Tony’s girl then. Even after you guys divorced and there was the slightest chance of somethin’ happenin’, he prevaricated because he valued your friendship more than anythin’ else. And then when everythin’ changed at my wedding, he still didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

He sees how her eyes fix on his face.

“He’s plenty good enough for me, Steve. He knows that now, right?”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know. After tonight, maybe, maybe not. Like I said, you’re his girl. That hasn’t changed, has it?”

Jess slowly shakes her head.

“I am, but he may have changed his mind, since I said that I agreed with you.”

“He was mad. He will have had time to cool off, think…”

“Time to think? When? In between the scotch or when the fists were flying?”  She rolls her eyes and then shakes her head. “I admire your loyalty though.”

Anything else she’s about to say is interrupted by the reappearance of Peggy and an invitation to follow her to where Bucky is being held.

* * *

 

Jess is assaulted by the indelible odour of booze, body odour, urine and worse as she follows Steve and Peggy to where Bucky’s being kept.  It’s not the first time she’s been here but the smell gets to her every time. Peggy pauses at the cell at the very end of a long row and looks in.

“You have visitors,” she tells the occupant and Jess looks through the iron bars and sees Bucky seated sideways on a narrow cot, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, staring at the floor.

“Bucky?” Jess murmurs.

Slowly he lifts his head and looks at her. His left eye is an interesting shade of purple and blue, a small graze abrading the skin of his cheekbone. Another equally purplish bruise is spreading along his jaw line. His bottom lip is cut and dark with dried blood. She looks down at his right hand, to see the knuckles bruised and split. She looks at Peggy.

“Can I go in?” she asks.

“Usually I’d say no and let him out and into your custody but since this is Bucky and he’s alone in the cell, you can have five minutes,” Peggy answers and Jess watches as she unlocks the cell door and holds it open. Her eyes seem to telegraph a message; _talk some sense into your man_

“Five minutes Jess, not a second more.”

Jess smiles her thanks as she slides through, hearing the door clang shut behind her.

Bucky watches her approach him and at the last moment he reaches out his right hand and captures her left, sliding his fingers through hers and holding on.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers.

She lets out a little ragged sigh as she sits down on the cot beside him and looks into his eyes. He reeks of alcohol still, the front of his shirt stained by it.

“I know you didn’t start this, Peggy told me what happened,” she whispers to him. Bucky looks down at their joined hands.  “But you were determined to finish it.”

“He called me a coward,” he whispers and then lifts his eyes to her face once more.

“What does he know? He knows nothing about bravery and I’m sure he’s never served his country, he’s nowhere near courageous enough to,” she whispers back. She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder and she feels him press a kiss on the top of her head.

“What are we gonna do Buck?” she murmurs.

“Right at this moment I wanna get out of here. I don’t know whether I want to sleep or eat. It’s been a long, long night,” he answers wearily. She lifts her head from his shoulder and looks at him once more. “And I know that’s not what you meant. I don’t know Jess. I understand what you and Steve are trying to do but I don’t know…” he confesses on a sigh.

“We need to talk about it soon, it’s not going to go away,” she tells him. He doesn’t answer, instead he slowly nods.

“I know.”

“You reek of beer, like you had a bath in the stuff.”

“Close enough, one of the guys tossed his at me, I was just glad it was in a glass and not a bottle.”

Jess’s eyes go wide at the connotation. It could’ve been so much worse. She gives her head a shake.

“We’re gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna get some breakfast and then we’re going back to the hotel and you’re going to grab a shower and some sleep,” she tells him instead.

Bucky looks at her but he doesn’t smile.

“Sounds like a plan. And I mean it baby, I’m sorry for acting like such an ass at the book store.”

Jess just regards him. She wants to believe him, instead she feels the weight of the past couple of days weighing down heavily on her shoulders.

“I know you’re sorry honey. You’ve had a stressful evening, a stressful night. Let’s put that part behind us. We’re gonna talk about the rest of it once you’ve eaten and had some rest. You know I won’t forget about it.”

“I know.” His eyes scan her face and then he leans into her and presses a kiss on her mouth and then belatedly winces at the cut on his bottom lip.

“Jess. It’s time.” She turns her head and she sees them both standing on the other side of the door, waiting.

“Time to go Buck,” Steve adds and the pair get to their feet.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky reaches a decision. 
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter with an epilogue to follow.

**Twenty:**

Bucky and Jess sit side by side in a small diner situated not that far from the police precinct. It’s busy; the breakfast crowd are in full force, demanding attention, placing orders, eating breakfast, conversing, perusing newspapers, drinking coffee and generally putting the world in order. Outside the sky is a lot brighter and the day itself is coming to life, becoming busier as people begin to go about their business.

Bucky cautiously sips at his coffee and watches life go by from his seat beside the window. Their breakfast order is in and he’s preparing to wait. He’s never been here before but Peggy has and by default so has Steve and according to him their breakfast menu is one of the best. He wonders whether it’s better than Joe’s. Right now he’s exhausted; his head aches and his eyes are gritty from lack of sleep. Fatigue weighs him down. He wants to eat and get out of here. He’d prefer just to go back to the hotel and crash for a few hours but as Jess reminds him, sleeping on an empty stomach tends to turn him into a grumpy growly bear roused too early from hibernation and he does tend to sleep better on a full stomach. He glances at her, worrying his sore bottom lip with his tongue. She’s staring down at her own cup, silent.

No one is talking about the previous night; not about the award ceremony appearance that he crashed and burned, not about the argument at the book store or the fight at the bar. His cheekbone still aches from one of his opponent’s lucky shots. He was taught to box by an uncle as a kid. His mom’s brother, his namesake Uncle Jimmy, God rest his soul. He took over as a kind of father figure where his dad couldn’t. He lost his dad before he turned ten, killed in action in Iraq during the first Desert Storm campaign. After that it was just him and his mom and Uncle Jimmy called by once in a while. Then his mom got cancer and died when he was eighteen years old, Uncle Jimmy felled by a heart attack a year after that. He has no siblings or cousins or any other family that he’s aware of. Steve, Peggy, Jess and Olivia are his family. He then turns to look at Jess.

“Have you heard from the Munchkin recently?” he asks her and sees her brief look of surprise before she smiles.

“Yeah. They’re in London at the moment. Visited the Tower of London yesterday, saw the Crown Jewels and she’s fallen in love with the ravens and wants one for a pet.”

“God, of course she does. What’s wrong with a puppy or a kitten or even a rabbit? Much more user friendly than a raven,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes and is rewarded by Jess’s amused grin.

“This is Olivia we’re talking about. She’s never been one for conforming. Kinda reminds me of someone,” she teases and he smiles in response and he shrugs one shoulder.

“I remember her wanting a pet dragon when she was, how old? six? so I shouldn’t be surprised,” he comments.

“Oh she still does.”

* * *

 

Their breakfast arrives and silence falls between them as they eat. Bucky realises that he’s starving and makes short work of his food, finishing first, returning to his coffee and staring out of the window as he waits for everyone else to finish.

“So what happens now Buck?” Steve enquires and Bucky slowly turns his head and looks at his friend.

“Right now? I’m going back to the hotel and grabbing a shower and a few hours of sleep.”

Steve sighs and slowly shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I know exactly what you meant and I’m tellin’ you what I told Jess. I don’t know. I hear ya but I don’t know. I need to sleep right now, that’s at the forefront of my things to do.”

“And how’s that first draft of book four coming along? I haven’t heard you mention it in a little while.”

Bucky slowly shrugs one shoulder. “It’s comin’, that’s all I’m gonna say.” He looks away from him and catches the eye of a waitress, indicating that he would like the bill. As she nods, he pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket and opens it and pulls out a few notes. When she returns, he pulls it over and peruses it, dropping the notes down on top of it. He looks at Steve and shakes his head. “No, it’s on me. It’s the least I can do after last night,” he tells him. He looks back at the waitress and he smiles, handing her the bill and the cash, telling her to keep the change.

“Now I really wanna get some sleep.”

* * *

 

Jess is sitting in the king sized bed when Bucky emerges from the bathroom. He’s showered, his wet hair pulled back from his face, a white hotel robe wrapped around him. His left eye is a stronger shade of purplish blue. She’s hung up his suit and shirt and tie and she’ll drop them off at the dry cleaners tomorrow.

“Feel better?” she enquires and she watches as he sheds the robe and climbs into bed naked. Not before she sees the bruises peppering his upper abdomen. It must’ve been some fight. He looks at her as if not sure how to answer her question.

“It’s amazing what a shower can do after a night on the tiles, or in the drunk tank of a police precinct in your case,” she continues.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Not mad exactly. More…disappointed.”

She sees his frown of puzzlement. “Disappointed?”

“Steve asked you at the book store about seeing his friend Sam. He also asked you how book four is coming along and you’ve answered neither of those questions.”

“No, what I said was that I hadn’t come to a decision about Sam and that book four is in progress,” he replies, his voice sharpening slightly.

“I haven’t seen you write a word since I picked you up off the floor of your bedroom and the whole Sam issue you’re hoping we’ll forget about and it’ll go away.”

She hears his loud sigh.

“Damn it Jess, I don’t wanna argue with you right now,” he bites back.

“I’m not going to let go of either subject, you know that don’t you?”

Bucky looks at her and his eyes are a stormy grey. “I do know,” he replies tightly and she watches as he climbs out of bed and pulls on the robe again. “And right now I’m not gonna talk about it. I’m tired and I don’t wanna say something I might regret,” he retorts and she watches him leave.

* * *

 

A muffled thud pulls her out of sleep. She lifts her head from her pillow and she listens. Then she sits up as she hears another, equally quiet thump.

“Damn it,” she whispers when she realises what that sound could’ve been.

The second bedroom is shadowy, the curtains pulled across the window so she can see the layout of the room. Bucky isn’t in his bed and the comforter is almost pulled completely off the mattress. Her spine prickles. This all feels very familiar somehow. Carefully she enters the room, pushing the door as wide as it’ll go. She goes around the base of the bed and her eyes slowly widen when she sees his feet poking out from beside a large antique armoire.

“Oh God, Bucky,” she whispers and hurries to him.

He’s pressed up in the corner of the room, head down on upturned knees, both arms looped around them.

“Hey,” she whispers and his head snaps up at the sound of her voice.

“Jess,” he hisses back, his eyes wide with absolute fear. He grabs one of her arms and holds on tight. “You gotta hide, they’re comin’, they’re gonna see you!”

“Baby, there’s no one here but you and me…” she tells him. He’s horribly pale, sweat sheening his skin, making his black eye stand out starkly in relief. He looks at her in surprise and then shakes his head.

“No…no they’re here, I can hear them,” he whispers frantically back.

“Who? Who can you hear?”

“Them…I got away before…before they shot me… I have to be quiet this time…” He covers his mouth with his other hand.

Jess watches him. She then pulls slowly, maneouvering her arm free of his grip and she sees how he looks at her. He’s terrified, eyes filled with unshed tears. She touches his face and sees how he lowers his hand from his mouth.

“You’re safe honey,” she begins, “you’re in a hotel in New York. You’ve had a nightmare but I promise you, you are safe.” She keeps her voice low. His eyes never leave hers and the tears swell and spill over, sliding down his face.

“I am?” His voice sounds tight, choked and sparsely optimistic.

Jess can only nod, her throat threatening to close up with tears of her own.

“You are. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. C’mon, let’s get back into bed.” She takes both of his hands and begins to get to her feet and he slowly follows suit. She leads him back to his bed and climbs in, watching as he follows.

Her heart is still banging in her chest when she lies down and draws him down with her. He goes to her, as trusting as a child and she feel an arm wind around her waist. He cuddles into her, his head on her breast and she can hear his ragged breathing warm her skin as she slowly strokes his hair. She feels him melt against her, a solid weight.

“I need to talk to Steve’s friend, don’t I?” he murmurs.

Jess tightens her hold around him.

“Yeah, I think you do,” she answers just as quietly.

“Will you stay with me if I do?”

She presses a kiss on the top of his head. “Sure baby, I’ll stay with you if you want me to,” she promises.

“Then talk to Steve, set it up,” he tells her.

* * *

 

Bucky is quiet, defeated, morose. He watches Jess zip up the suit bag that contains his outfit from the night before and then lay it on the bed beside his overnight bag that contains a change of clothes, toiletries and shoes. Her small case as well as the garment bag that contains the dress she wore last night keep it company.

He didn’t go back to sleep after his nightmare of earlier, just lay for a while huddled up against Jess as she stroked his hair and he listened to the beat of her heart beneath his ear.

Now he’s dressed for the day though he has no idea of the time. He guesses it’s sometime in the afternoon and they’re in the process of checking out. He flinches when he hears the knock on the door and Jess presses her hand briefly on his shoulder as she goes past him.

“It’ll be the porter ready to take our bags downstairs. You ready to go?”

Bucky just nods and he gets to his feet. He follows her out into the living area and pauses when he sees his literary award on the coffee table. It’s packaged in a sturdy cardboard box now, resting on a bed of white tissue paper. He lifts his head when he hears Jess open the door to the suite and speak with someone. A uniformed porter enters, pulling a brass trolley. Bucky offers him a faint smile and then points to the master bedroom and watches him go inside. A moment later he re-emerges, pulling the trolley. The two garment bags are hooked on the rail and the accompanying bags are stacked neatly beneath it. Bucky turns his head when Jess comes to stand beside him.

“Ready to go now?” she enquires and he nods. He watches as she slips the lid onto the box holding his award and scoops it up.

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

 

There are press waiting outside of the hotel. Bucky eyes them warily as he approaches the exit.

“Hey. Put these on.” He looks at Jess and sees that she’s holding a pair of his sunglasses.

“I’m not gonna even ask what you’re doin’ with these,” he mutters as he slips them on.

“I know you’re forever losing them so I keep a spare pair in my purse. You can thank me later.”

“You think they’re here for me?”

“Well you did get into a brawl at a bar last night as well as being here for a major literary awards dinner that you walked out of towards the end of. I’ll be amazed if any of that hasn’t made it into the press.”

“Especially the fight.” His tone is morose.

“You’re not gonna be charged. You were provoked and you defended yourself as any citizen of this city would do.” She watches how he seems to stiffen up and she touches an arm. “There’s a cab waiting for us. We can either go to my house or we can go to your apartment. We’re not going to answer any questions and you’re not going to react to any inflammatory remarks.” She hears him sigh unhappily. He and the paparazzi are not on the best of terms; if news about the fight last night has got out, some of them will be set on poking at him to get a reaction.

The moment they emerge into the late afternoon sunshine then the press converge. All of a sudden he’s surrounded by heaving bodies, microphones and smart phones shoved in his face. The questions thrown at him are a blur of voices but he hears questions about a fight in a downtown bar. Injuries are mentioned, even hospital. Bucky keeps his head down, thankful for the sunglasses hiding his black eye from view. He can feel panic begin to bubble inside of him as he and Jess push their way through the swarms of people. He needs to get out of here. He can hear the fast paced whirr and click of cameras close to him, swears he feels the heat of their light flashes against his skin. He feels bodies pressed up against his, squeezing the air out of him and his vision goes a little grey around the edges. Then cops are pushing their way through the chaos and the press are being hauled and pushed back and he can breathe again and as he gets into the rear of a cab, he takes a breath and then another one and the greyness begins to subside. He slumps down on the seat beside Jess and the door is slammed behind him. Their luggage is loaded up and pretty soon they’re on their way. Bucky leans back in his seat. He removes his glasses and wipes at his face.

“You okay?” she asks him and he turns his head in her direction and offers her a weak smile.

“I will be.”

* * *

 

He’s still a little shaky once they get back to his apartment. He watches Jess move around, hanging up garment bags, unpacking luggage. All of a sudden he’s exhausted and feels as though he wants to sleep for a million years. He’s just so sick and tired of everything. He should be on top of the world; he finally has the girl of his dreams, he’s won a major literary award, he’s surrounded by a great group of people who will always have his back and his newest novel is selling fast but he isn’t.

“Hey. Drink this.”

A glass appears in his line of vision and he looks up at Jess in surprise and takes it from her and sips at it, both surprised and not that it’s whisky. Feels the familiar burn of it on his tongue. She sits down on the sofa beside him, another glass in her hand.

“I’m going to make some calls now. Namely to Steve to get Sam’s contact details and I’m going to set up an appointment with him for you as early as he can make it. I assume you still want to go ahead with it?”

Bucky looks into her eyes.

“I do,” he confirms and hears her quiet sigh of relief.

“I’m glad because I was certain you were gonna change your mind once you’d had some time to think about it.”

“No. I wanna do this, I have to.” His voice is quietly husky.

Jess’s smile is softly encouraging.

“I agree,” she replies. She then takes another breath. “I think we also need to talk about the newest book, the one you’re supposed to be in the middle of writing.” She watches him carefully.

“You know.”

“I had an idea. You haven’t written a word since the day I found you on the floor almost choking on your own vomit. Writer’s block?” She keeps her voice gentle and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s never happened to me before.”

“Well, a lot has been going on with you since then so maybe it’s a symptom of what been happening and maybe once you begin to address it, it may begin to resolve.”

“But what if it doesn’t? I’m on a deadline and I’m nowhere near reachin’ it.”

“Then we talk to Steve and postpone. He’ll understand.”

“Will he?”

“He’s your best friend as well as your publisher, of course he’ll understand. He wants what’s best for you and if it means postponing this book for a while then he’ll do it.”

“I’m scared,” he whispers.

Jess reaches for his hand, sliding her fingers through his and she holds on tight.

“I know you are. It’s terrifying to realise that you need help and it’s even harder to ask for it. We’re all here to help you, we’ll support you every single step of the way.” She sees the tears well in his eyes as he offers her a tentative smile.

“That’s what Peggy said,” he whispers and he takes a slow deep breath, feeling his lungs inflate. Just as slowly he exhales as he begins to collect his thoughts.

“You deserve every good thing this life has to offer Jess but instead you’re stuck with me.” He looks down as those tears spill over. He looks up at her again, biting his lower lip. “This is why I told you we wouldn’t be a good idea. You should have a guy who’s… _whole_ and can give you whatever you want, whatever you need. Not someone like me, someone who’ll break your heart.” His voice trembles and he clamps his mouth shut but she sees how his chin wobbles. She puts her glass down on the coffee table and takes his too.

“You’re all that I want Bucky. It may have taken me more than fifteen years to see it but it’s true. None of us are perfect and you forget how well I know you. Maybe if I didn’t then it would’ve been a different story.” She smiles into his eyes. “I told you once that I’m not some fragile blossom that’ll break under the first sign of pressure. You should know that already. I’m your girl and I’m _always_ gonna be your girl, whatever this life decides to throw at us.” She touches the side of his face with her right hand, her thumb smoothing beneath the bruised skin of his left eye.

“I love you and we’re gonna get through this, however long it takes,” she whispers and leans forward and presses a kiss on his mouth. She draws back and looks at him again.

“God, I love you too. I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you back then,” he whispers back and sees her shy smile in response. He leans towards her and he kisses her again.


	21. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue which includes a time jump. 
> 
> Is there a happy ever after for Bucky??? What do you think??? ;) 
> 
> If you've made it this far, many thanks for reading. It is much appreciated.

**Twenty One:**

**Epilogue: Ten Years Later.**

Olivia Stark graduates top of her class. There’s a row of supporters applauding and whooping and cheering her name as she walks onto the stage to accept her high school diploma and Jess smiles at the grin that flashes across her daughter’s face as she acknowledges them all. If she’s at all embarrassed by the loud show of affection from her extended family then she doesn’t show it. Come the fall, she’s heading off to college, aiming to study astrophysics at MIT. In time she’ll begin an entry level position at her father’s company but only with a degree under her belt. There will be no favours for his first born offspring. She has to earn it, like he did.

Beside her, Jacob Buchanan Barnes fidgets in his seat, legs swinging back and forth. He’s six and a half years old with a head of reddish brown curls and slate blue eyes and he’s bored with everything that’s going on today. It doesn’t matter to him that it’s a very special occasion and that he has permission to be absent from school today, he’s bored. He’s wearing smart clean navy blue shorts and an immaculate pale blue short sleeved shirt, his curls combed into submission, his face miraculously still clean. On his other side sits his dad who has his little brother, five year old Matthew, on his lap. Matthew is a blonder version of his older brother and he’s clad in a similar outfit. He leans back against his father’s chest, a thumb poked in the corner of his mouth and the June heat has made him sleepy. Jess can’t blame Jacob for his boredom; he’s in his best clothes, on his best behaviour or else and listening to a bunch of adults drone on and on about something he doesn’t quite understand and see his sister pick up a piece of paper while wearing a strange gown and even weirder hat. It’s a lot for a six and a half year old to take on board but so far, he’s behaving beautifully.

“It won’t be much longer,” Jess whispers to her eldest son “And afterwards if you’re very good, you can have ice cream.” She winks at him and receives a beaming smile in return. Jacob loves ice cream. She turns her head and she looks at Bucky as he watches his stepdaughter receive her high school diploma.

They’ve been married now for nearly eight years, getting hitched at Town Hall with just Steve, Peggy, Natasha and Olivia as witnesses. It was how they both wanted it. Quiet, personal, intimate. Afterwards they went out to dinner to celebrate.

The long hair and the beard have gone and in its place is a shorter style, one reminiscent of the short back and sides he sported prior to his deployment but a little longer with a couple of days’ worth of stubble dusting his jaw line. She sees how he smiles at Olivia, how his eyes take in the crowds around him. Once upon a time this would’ve been hell on earth for him and he would’ve kept his distance but now he’s more comfortable, happier to be in crowds of people and more welcoming of people approaching him. Jess is immensely proud of him and all that he’s managed to achieve in the intervening years even though he’s still very much a work in progress and always will be.

Presently the ceremony is over. Jess listens to her daughter give her Valedictorian farewell speech with proud tears in her eyes. More loud applause follows, which succeeds in Matthew slowly opening his eyes to wonder at what all the noise is about before drifting back off to sleep again. People begin to stand up, to meet up with their graduates and make their departures. Jess slowly gets to her feet and once she’s upright, she takes Jacob’s hand and holds onto it as Olivia approaches her, a wide smile on her face. She hugs her mom tightly and does the same with Jacob who wraps his arms around his sister’s waist and holds on for just a moment. Olivia then turns to look at Bucky, who has Matthew in his arms, the little boy’s head resting against his shoulder, his arms around his neck. She goes to his other side and he slips his right arm around her shoulder as she presses a kiss on his cheek.

“Proud of you munchkin,” he murmurs and is rewarded by her beaming smile.

“You too Papa J,” she whispers back and he grins, rolling his eyes at the same time. Once Bucky married Jess, he graduated from being Uncle J to Papa J.

“Go see your dad,” he reminds her and urges her towards him as he goes to stand beside Jess.

“Today has come around far too quickly for my liking,” Jess confesses and Bucky looks at her.

“I know. Feels like just five minutes ago I was talkin’ about paying for her to have a grand graduation party and now here we are and she doesn’t want a party. What eighteen year old kid doesn’t want a graduation party I ask you?”

“Olivia Stark. The money you’ve gifted her will come in handy for other things.”

“Like what? Her dad has paid for an off campus apartment which is much nicer than the one we used to share as well as a decent car and a very generous allowance…” His words fade away when he looks into his wife’s eyes. “And I’m bein’ stupid again aren’t I?”

 Jess slowly nods.

“It’s not a competition Buck. He’s her father, he’s always taken care of her. She’ll have your money as a backup, as extra security.”

“You’re right, I know. How are you feelin’?”

Jess looks down at her very pregnant belly. “Huge. Ungainly. Uncomfortable.”

“Aww sweetheart, won’t be for much longer.”

“I’m hoping since this one is a girl, she won’t be as lazy as her two brothers were and come on time, even a little bit _early_.” Her voice lowers to a whisper which makes Bucky grin.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he whispers back and steals a kiss.

* * *

 

The house is full of people, all who’ve been invited back to help Olivia celebrate her graduation. They include her classmates as well as family and other friends. Bucky stands beside the open patio doors that lead out onto a huge lawned back yard and he sees the boys running around, whooping and hollering at the tops of their lungs. He tries not to wince at their volume level but considering they were so well behaved at the graduation, they’re allowed an opportunity to let off steam. They’ve changed out of their smart clothes and are in t-shirts and older shorts and are currently running riot.

“Hey you.”

He turns his head from watching his kids to see Olivia standing in front of him, two tall glasses in her hands.

“Hey…what are you doin’ here, why aren’t you with your buddies, celebratin’ the end of high school and the advent of summer?” he enquires. Olivia smiles at him, a smile not unlike her mother’s.

“I want to spend a little time with you and mom said to give you this.” She hands one of the glasses to him and he takes it. It’s just soda. He hasn’t had any alcohol in nine years now. A choice he made when he started therapy.

“Thanks munchkin.” He takes a sip, hearing ice cubes clinking together. “I can still call you munchkin, right? I know you’re all of eighteen now but it’s kind of a hard habit to break.” His eyes twinkle with a smile and Olivia smiles and then laughs.

“You’re the only person who does and I doubt I could stop you so it’s okay,” she answers.

“Well that’s a relief. How are you feelin’, Miss Valedictorian Stark?” he teases and sees her smile again.

“Glad that that part is all over and scared to death of what MIT will bring,” she confesses. Bucky observes her.

“You’ll be fine, in fact you’ll be more than fine. You’ll ace it, smart girl like you? Piece of cake.”

“You’ve always seen the best in me,” she murmurs. He frowns very slightly at this.

“Because that’s all you’ve ever shown me and your mom. I’ve known you since before you were born, I’m your godfather and there have been times in the past when just the thought of you and your mom was what got me through a tough day.”

“I’m not perfect, though.”

“I know you’re not sweetheart, no one is. Is there somethin’ wrong?”

He sees her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “No. I guess I’m just beginning to realise how lucky I am. I have mom, I have my dad and I have you in my life. Dad is my bio dad and I love him but you’re like my back up dad and I love you too. It’s just a huge thing to absorb.”

Bucky takes another sip of his drink, aware of a sudden lump swelling in his throat and takes in the fact that Olivia sees him like that, a backup dad. He supposes that it’s true and he rather likes it.

“A lot of kids don’t even have that. You’ve got a good strong family network here, me, your mom and your brothers, your dad, step mom and sister and brother and there’s Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy and their kids and we love you billions.” He watches her and sees how she looks at him and he can’t help but feel that something else is going on here. She takes a deep breath.

“I know, which is why I was wondering if I could spend the summer working at Lionheart? As an intern or something?”

Bucky’s eyes go wide with surprise. “I thought you’d want to spend your vacation at the nearest beach?”

Olivia shakes her head. “No, I want to work at Lionheart with you and Sam and the team. I want to give back, even if it’s just working in the office or running errands.”

And then it becomes clear to Bucky and he smiles softly.

“And spend time with Billy too, perhaps?” he gently suggests and sees how she blushes. _Bingo!_ Someone has a crush.  She shrugs, pretending nonchalance even though her cheeks are a revealing shade of pink.

“Okay. I tell you what. Since today is a special day, how about I talk about it to Sam at work next week and I’ll see what we can come up with?  What you’re gonna do til _then_ is have some time just chilling out because when your baby sister arrives, and your mom thinks it’ll be sooner rather than later, I’m gonna need a hand corralling your brothers. Deal?”

Olivia smiles softly, gratefully and she nods. “It’s a deal and FYI, I was gonna do that anyway,” she replies, sliding her free arm around his waist and leaning into him. He hooks his arm across her shoulders and presses a kiss against the side of her head.

“Was just makin’ sure, munchkin. And in return, I won’t tell your dad about Billy,” he whispers.

She looks at him with wide almost innocent eyes.

“My dad?”

“Yeah well your mom and I like Billy a lot but your dad?” He slowly shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip a little and sees how Olivia’s eyes widen.

“He doesn’t know Billy!” she whispers back, almost outraged.

“I know that… but you’re his daughter, his first born. Apparently you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re _thirty-five!”_ He whispers and laughs when he sees her mouth agape in shock which then fades into a grin.

Lionheart is Bucky’s charity, his baby. He started it a year into his therapy as a way of having something to focus on, a way of giving back. He’s the figurehead, the face of it all and he works with other smaller charities intent on helping military vets with PTSD and other issues. He works with Stark Industries, he helps fund prosthetics for those who need them and have limited resources and Sam is involved in heading a team of counsellors and psychiatrists that the Vets can have access to. They have a large building in a quiet part of upstate New York which helps to house and counsel the worst affected. Billy helps out during school holidays and he’s working well with his new prosthetic arm. Bucky kept his promise to him at the book signing. It started off with him emailing his mom and keeping up with his progress that way until he started meeting up with them and just over the past six months Billy has been fitted with his state of the art prosthetic arm, a similar design to Bucky’s and he’s coping well with it.

Bucky still writes his novels. He published his fourth one a year late and it still sold well, still topped the New York Best Seller’s List. Got him another MacPherson. He has three of them now and they live in his office with his other awards. Yeah, he has an actual office now with a proper desk and chair and even a specially built cabinet to showcase those pesky awards the book world keep insisting on giving to him.

It’s also his quiet space. The boys know if daddy’s in his office and the door is closed then he’s not to be disturbed. He still needs his quiet time once in a while when anxiety catches him unaware and it still does. While he’s on a much more even keel emotionally these days, he still has nights where Jess has to scoop him off the floor but those nights are getting fewer and further between.

He was finally able to talk about what he went through in Iraq. First of all with Sam. It was difficult to begin with. Spending so long keeping it all locked inside of him, it was hard work to turn the key to unlock it all and let it out. At first he could barely talk, it came out in disjointed bits and pieces. Sam was so patient with him; he listened, pieced it all together and offered ideas, solutions to problems but he never judged him. He questioned but didn’t judge and he was glad of that. He doesn’t know when the turning point was but finally it all came out, every single ugly detail. He showed Sam his scars, the physical ones as well as the emotional ones and it felt cathartic, as if a weight had lessened in the centre of his chest.

And then he’d written about it. He wrote a book about his time over there. It took three tumultuous months to get it onto paper. He talked about Yakub. He found out that it was Yakub’s parents who told the US Army where he was. He talked about his rehabilitation, he wrote about his love for Jess. The day it was published, he asked her to marry him and thank God she said yes. It was then that Lionheart was born, was created. He did a single one on one television interview, mainly to promote the book but also to get the charity out there. The reception was huge, viewing figures breaking records country wide and within three months there was several million dollars in the coffers, donated by those viewers. The house was purchased and his work began.

Lionheart keeps him busy, keeps him focused. His support network has grown and banded around him so that he never feels alone or abandoned or hopeless. There’s always someone around to talk to him, to listen to him as well as to tell him to shut up and stop being an ass. He loves it. He loves his new life.

And he’s a dad now. Two boys. He never thought that would ever happen and maybe if he hadn’t got the help he needed then perhaps it wouldn’t have. The old him wouldn’t have coped with the noise, the demands or the commitment that raising infants require and need. And there’s another one on the way, delivery date imminent and a daughter this time. God knows what’s going to happen with a daughter in the mix, even though Jess likes to remind him that it’s not as though he’s never parented a girl before.

He looks back at Olivia and he smiles softly at her.

* * *

 

Jess wonders where her husband could be.

The house is full of people so perhaps it’s all got to be a little too much for him and he’s retreated to his office for a little bit of peace and quiet. Her eyes scan the variety of faces and she finally sees him in the garden. He’s crouching down, Jacob’s arms around his neck and Matthew has his arms around his left arm. He says something to both boys and they nod. Slowly he gets to his feet and she sees how Jacob curls his legs around his dad’s waist and he clings on tight. Matthew still grips to the prosthetic arm, his legs swinging clear off the ground and she can hear him giggling as he attempts to swing backwards and forwards. Bucky just grins.

Slowly she walks towards them. Bucky sees her and he smiles at her, lowering his arm so that Matthew’s feet touch the ground and he lets go of his arm. He then crouches down and Jacob lets go of him and he watches as both boys then tear off across the grass as if the hounds of hell were on their tails. Jess chuckles as she approaches her husband.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, sliding an arm across her shoulders. She looks into his eyes and she smiles and he presses a kiss on her mouth in response. “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I suppose.”

Sees his faint frown of puzzlement. “You suppose?”

“Yeah. I’m having contractions Buck, I think we need to get to the hospital.”

Sees the puzzlement be replaced by brief blank eyed shock.

“ _Now_? Oh…okay…..”

“You don’t need to talk to anyone about taking care of the boys, Olivia is on alert…”

“This is her party, she shouldn’t be looking after her brothers at her own party.”

“Which is why Natasha is hanging around and so are Steve and Peggy and their kids. C’mon. We need to go.” She pauses and closes her eyes and Bucky watches how she breathes slowly and deeply and tries not to wince at the fingers digging into his side. Presently they open again and the expression in them is that _don’t you mess with me_ one he remembers of old. “Your daughter is in a hurry to get here, we’d better go or she’s going to be born in the middle of this yard with everyone as witnesses.”

Bucky’s eyes widen with concern and he turns her around, guiding her back towards the house, while in his mind he’s thinking where he left the car keys.

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

 

Amelia Rose Buchanan Barnes arrives less than two hours later. Jess barely had time to change and get onto the bed before she felt the need to push. She wasn’t hanging around. Bucky witnessed the birth of his daughter with wide eyes.

“She’s beautiful, Jess,” he murmurs a little while later, cradling the now swaddled little girl in his arms. He looks at her and softly smiles and Jess sees the soft sheen of tears in his eyes.

“Didn’t think I’d ever get this lucky,” he whispers, his voice a little rough. He quietly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “To have you and Olivia, the boys…everythin’…once upon a time I thought it’d never happen.” His confession is soft.

He looks down at the infant and swallows again against the lump in his throat.

 

**END.**

 

 

 


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